The Lost Stone
by afictionwarrior
Summary: Rory crossed over and brought the dead back to life. Now she's finding she brought back more than she meant to. Stephen is back, but the Smithfield-Wyatt twins followed to break the laws of life and death. A new figure has come along to haunt Rory as well advising her to trust no one, and with the toll her powers take on her, will they be any match for Sid and Sadie?
1. 1

I walked out of Hawthorne and returned to the car to find that Boo was already sitting in the front seat. I scooted into the back seat and watched Wexford grow smaller in the rearview. "How was it?" Boo asked.

"It was fine. I hope Alistair took me seriously, but it's hard to tell with him. Jerome won't say anything," I told Thorpe. He looked at me in the mirror with a raised eyebrow. I gave him a sure nod.

"Good." Thorpe brought Boo and I to a street made of shops near the flat. The conditions for me being allowed out were still in place. Boo couldn't let me out of her sight and I had to stay covered. She did a thorough job. She even came into dressing rooms with me. It was sometime in the evening before we headed back to the flat.

"It's okay if I drop you here, yeah?" Boo asked as we got to the building. "I still have some errands I want to run. Christmas shopping."

"I think I can make it to the building without causing a scene," I laughed.

"But can you make it up the stairs on your own?"

"If you could do it with one leg, I can do it with both."

Boo laughed and watched me walk into the building. I felt her eyes on me the whole way inside. No security slips. Using the set of keys I had been given I opened the door to the apartment. Nobody was around to greet me, but I was sure they wouldn't just let me be on my own like this. I dropped the shopping bags I had amassed by the coffee table. Then I went to Stephen's door and knocked lightly. I heard Stephen say, "Come in," so I opened the door and peeked my head in.

"Hi," I said with a small smile. Stephen sat on his bed against his pillows. He had a book in his hands. He looked very relaxed. This was not a Stephen I was used to seeing. I leaned against the door frame. "How was your check up?"

He shrugged and marked the page in his book. "Routine."

I raised an eyebrow, then I laughed. "Alright, then. Sure. Anyway, Boo and I just finished shopping so I actually have clothes now. Like real clothes not the plastic stuff I've been wearing the last few days. But I did some thinking, and I was wondering if maybe you had an electric razor? And could I borrow it?"

"An electric… razor?" He echoed. He was halfway off the bed now, but my request caused him to pause. I nodded. "Can I ask what for?"

I pursed my lips and grabbed a chunk of hair on the top of my head. "I'm going to get rid of this. It's ridiculous and awful and I just really hate it. Plus, it smells like cat food. And it feels like… I don't know. Like bacon."

"Sure." Stephen was used to my metaphors. I don't know what I expected him to do, but he walked to me and pressed his face against the top of my head. "It isn't so bad," he said after sniffing.

"You're a terrible liar. I need you to know that." A look crossed his face, but he walked passed me before I could analyze it. I followed him to the bathroom where he took a razor out of that cabinet. I said, "Thanks," as he handed it to me and left me to do the deed. I turned the razor on. It buzzed quieter than I expected. I looked up at my reflection. "Do you think maybe I should cut it shorter first?" I yelled.

"It should be short enough," Stephen yelled back. I took a deep breath and raised my hand to my hair. A weird yelp rose from my throat before the blades could cut into my hair. I cried out for Stephen. He appeared in the doorway looking alarmed. I turned off the razor.

"I need your help. I can't do it."

His shoulders relaxed and he pinched his nose. "Maybe you just shouldn't cut it then."

"No, I need you to. Please," I begged waving the razor at him. Stephen sighed and took it from my hand. He stepped into the tiny bathroom behind me and turned the razor back on. I squeezed my eyes shut tight enough that I saw colorful splotches against the darkness.

When I first felt the edge pressed against my head, I made a little whimpering noise. The sound of the razor was worse when it was pressed against my skull. It freaked me out. Then I could feel air on my scalp. It was an unpleasant sensation.

"So Boo and I were doing math," I said loudly to make sure I was being heard over the buzzing.

"Were you?"

"We were trying to figure out how long I could have been out for the other night." Stephen hesitated for a moment but didn't say anything. "We went before sunset. I remember the sun setting while I was waiting with you. And then at some point after dark they made me take a bath."

"They made you take a bath?"

"Yeah, in river water. I needed to be _cleansed_." I made a face. "It was gross and cold. Anyway, that part couldn't have been more than 10 minutes. And it must have taken between 30 and an hour for them to have gotten the stone and brought it to the house. So I'd say I was there for about 3 hours before the actual ritual thing happened. Then we figure I was… asleep for another hour, maybe a little longer. Then we woke up, fought, and went to Marble Arch.

"Maybe it's useless, but I just really feel like something important happened and I'm just missing a big chunk of information. Sid knew my name when he woke up, but he had never met me before. Sadie acted like she knew us. I had to have done something in that time to get all three of you. They were gone for years. I had to have gotten them out somehow but I'm missing information."

Stephen was quiet for a while. Finally, he turned off the razor and he put his hand on my shoulder. "Finished."

"Does it look bad?"

"No," he said, "actually, not at all."

"What did I say about you being a bad liar?" I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. I pressed my lips firmly together. My face looked even rounder without anything to shape it. Stephen had managed to leave a layer of dark fuzz attached to my scalp so I wasn't completely bald. I ran my hand over my head. "I look like Britney Spears in 2007."

"Minus the breakdown," Stephen said. I looked at his reflection standing behind the girl who was supposed to be me.

"Are you sure about that?"

He ignored this, and pressed his nose to the top of my head again. "And you'll be glad it doesn't smell like cat food anymore."

"Was that a joke?" I asked. The corner of my lips twitched.

"An attempt at one," he admitted. He walked out with his razor and went back to his room. I went and grabbed a broom to sweep up the damaged hair on the floor and throw it away. When I felt the bathroom was sufficiently clean, I went back to Stephen's room. He left the door open. He had started to read his book again and he sat on the edge of his bed.

"At least I bought lots of hats today." I ran my hand back and forth over the stubble. Scratchy, smooth. "I'm already cold enough as it is."

"I wasn't lying," Stephen said. He finally looked up and my heart did a weird flip. Why? "It looks good." My face felt a little warm.

"Thanks. What I was telling you earlier," I started but I hesitated. He didn't look away from me. I bit my lip. "Maybe it is pointless trying to figure out if something happened, but I still don't understand what happened. I don't know how I did that or why I could. I just… I want to know how we're all alive right now."

Stephen looked at me like he was weighing his words. "I don't think you did anything that brought them back," he said.

"They were gone for years and they came back in one night. The same night I went to go get you. In a ritual meant to _get them back_. I'm pretty sure it was something I did. I want to know what I did, and I want to know how they know us. Do they remember something we don't? It's so frustrating that I just can't remember."

Stephen closed his book and set it aside. He rested his elbows on his knees and sat in that particular boy-ish position with his legs open. "I don't know what happened the other night, and I don't know why they're back, but I don't think it's your fault, Rory. I think you did what you felt you had to, and them coming back was some sort of… side effect. Perhaps we were on some sort of plane, some sort of different dimension. Maybe we were nowhere." He took a deep breath. "Whatever it was, I don't think we can really understand what happened."

There it was again, that nagging feeling that he wasn't being honest about something. He did think it was my fault. He was just being nice. I sighed. I was not going to constantly hound him to tell me the truth. I looked away from him. "Thanks," I said, although I didn't feel better.

"You said they made you drink something," Stephen said, changing the subject. "Did you know what it was?"

"Not exactly," I hesitated. "Everything Jane told me was in it was harmless, but I knew there had to be something else."

"But you drank it anyway. And when you force fed it to Sadie, it affected her."

"She didn't die," I noted.

"I don't think they can," Stephen said. His voice was hard now. This had obviously been on his mind for a bit, and he was angry. "But you could."

I bit my lip. "I'm alive now. Whatever I was in that time, both of us are alive."

"Why would you willingly drink poison?"

"Why would you willingly get in a car accident?" A moment of silence passed between us.

"I'm not worth dying for, Rory," Stephen said.

"Neither am I," I retorted. We stared each other down. "You think you're not worth dying for because you just… I don't know. You don't have any sense of how- how good you really are. I didn't know what I was going to do, I didn't know if I would die or what." How could I make him understand? "All I knew is there was a chance I could bring you back and I was going to take it because you didn't deserve to die. You're worth saving, Stephen."

"At the cost of your own life?"

"Yes!" I exclaimed, exasperated. I put my hands on my head. "Damn it, yes. You are. You don't think so. I know that. I get it, but you have to find it in you somewhere to let me think it for you. Even if you don't feel anything for me other than responsibility, that doesn't change the fact that I care about you. You died just cause you felt responsible for me, I can't die a little because I actually care about you?"

If it was possible, the crease between his eyebrows deepened. He took a deep breath. I watched his chest rise with it. I softened a bit. Stephen looked sad. Hurt, actually. "Rory, I… I need you to understand something. It's important." He struggled with what he wanted to say. He almost sounded choked. Stephen took another breath, and picked his words carefully. "I care… very deeply about _you_. I don't think you need protecting because of what you can do, or because I think you're fragile. I think you are very brave.

"Overall I still see you as you. I don't care that you are a terminus. I don't want to keep you safe simply because of that. If anything it's the opposite. I want to protect you from anyone who only sees you for your power. The twins, Jane, even Thorpe. I want to protect you from losing your life, whether to death or to the sight. _You_ can have a life. I want that for you. You are not just a _responsibility _to me. The other night…"

He paused and looked away from me. I stepped closer to him, close enough to touch him if I wanted. I didn't touch him, but I could. Stephen sighed and looked back up at me. This was still difficult for him, but I needed to hear it. We both knew we could not move forward if he didn't say it.

"I didn't come after you because I felt responsible." I felt myself deflate. Oh. That's what he was talking about. Of course. "I came after you because I care about you, too."

I pressed my lips together, concentrating my focus on a blank spanse of his wall beside his closet. I could feel him watching me. After a few breaths, I turned back to him, trying to smile. "Okay, so let's just say that I won't do it again if you don't."

Stephen nodded. I don't think he was actually willing to make this deal, but he was relenting, at least for now.

"Hello?" Freddie called from the doorway. I stepped out into the sitting room. Her eyes got big as she saw me. "Wow," she said. I ran my hand over my head self consciously. Stephen stepped out behind me. "Okay. Maybe you'll be happy about what I brought you, then." Freddie smiled and hopped over the couch parkour style. She handed me a big paper bag.

I didn't know what to expect, but it definitely wasn't human hair. I flipped. "What, did you _scalp_ someone?" And then, of course, I understood. "Wait, are these wigs?"

"Yeah," she laughed. "Did you really not realize?"

"Shut up! I've had a stressful week, cut me some slack." I took one out. It felt nice. Nothing like the synthetic, plasticky wig I wore for Halloween in 8th grade. "Where did you get wigs?"

Freddie shrugged. "I know a girl."

She didn't offer up anymore information so I didn't ask. I flipped the wig over and put it on my head. I tried to brush it down with my fingers. I felt another pair of hands on my head. Stephen was helping me fit it properly. I turned to him and asked, "What do you think?"

He looked me over and nodded. "You make a good ginger," Freddie said.

"Thanks. It feels real."

"I mean, it is human hair." That tidbit creeped me out a little but at least it looked authentic then.

There were a few more in the bag. Different colors, so I could change it up. I felt a little relieved. I glanced at Stephen, and I thought maybe we were having the same thought. This would give me more freedom.

"You probably shouldn't wear this one," he said, holding up one of the wigs. It was longish, but still shorter than my hair was before I had to cut it. I knew why he said that. Even though the color wasn't loud, it was still pink. Very soft pink and blonde. They almost blended. That's how light the pink was.

I took it from him and tried it on. "But it's so _pretty_." I pouted.

"Yeah, I figured you might not be able to. That one was for funsies," Freddie said.

"Funsies?" I echoed with a smile. Freddie smiled back and nodded. "Thank you," I said again. "A lot."

Freddie blushed a little and raised her shoulders. "You're welcome."

Something on Stephen dinged and he pulled out his phone. Excusing himself, he stepped out of the room and closed his bedroom door. I looked at his door for a second as he started talking to someone then went back to my new bag of freedom. I tried on the rest of the wigs. There was a range of colors and lengths, even a grey/silver wig that according to Freddie was also for "funsies." There was one in the bag that was close to my natural hair color, but a different style than how my hair had been cut. I looked at each one in the bathroom, and decided I liked this one best so I kept it on. It made me feel normal again. My face didn't look so round with these on.

Stephen came back out. Seeing me, he paused and then nodded. I figured he liked this one best, too. "That was Thorpe. There's something I need to do." At this he stopped and looked down at his phone for a minute, even though it was just black screen. He sighed. Always sighing. "He wants me to take you two with me."


	2. 2

I looked at Stephen sitting alone at the bar. Of course he had managed to get to the front and grab a seat. I expected him to be uncomfortable, but he looked completely focused. This was technically work, even if it was at a nightclub. It looked like he had even ordered something to drink.

Freddie and I were out on the floor. She wore what she had come over in. A pair of artsy looking mom jeans and a flannel shirt. I had insisted on dressing up a bit more. I put makeup on and stole a top from Boo's clothes, and even managed to use this as an excuse to wear the pink wig.

"I'm not used to coming to spots like this," Freddie told me as we tried to blend in. "Normally just pubs. I used to go to concerts."

I nodded. I could tell I was the only one of us comfortable in this setting. "Back in New Orleans, they didn't play a lot of this kind of music where we went out. Clubs mostly play trap music back home."

"They play what?" Freddie looked confused.

"I'll have to play you a song or two sometime." The music here was still very upbeat, but more pop. A little synthy. Sometimes the DJ would move into a song I knew, and that made it a lot more fun because I could start singing along with all the drunks.

I was really into one song when I felt hands on my hips. Now when this happened back home, one of my friends would either give me a thumbs or get me the hell away from this creep. Since Freddie seemed unfamiliar with the club scene, of course she wouldn't know this code. She wasn't even looking at me. She was scouting for any signs of danger. I was on my own for this one.

Trying to squirm away must have made him think I was just dancing because it didn't work. Neither did standing still. He just pressed his crotch harder onto my butt. I rolled my eyes. I was about to finally just turn around a tell him off.

Freddie's eyes locked on the guy behind me and narrowed. She looked possessive. Like I was _hers_. She snaked her arm around my waist and pulled me against her. I still felt his hands on my hips but he wasn't grinding into me anymore. I put my arms around Freddie's neck, and she turned her back to him. I smiled at her as we danced a little way into the crowd away from the creep.

Now that she had turned me around, Stephen was in my direct line of sight. He was standing up, watching us. Maybe he had seen what happened. My face felt hot. I hugged Freddie. "You're kinda cute when you're all protective," I said in her ear. I pulled away to find a bright red, flustered Freddie smiling.

She opened her mouth to respond, but her eyes focused on something over my shoulder and her face went blank. "Freddie?"

Jerome walked right passed me and straight to Freddie. She had her eyebrows raised. "What are you doing here?" He asked.

"What are _you_ doing here?" I echoed. He looked at me. It took a second. His eyes widened.

"_Rory?_" I don't think any of us knew what to do. Freddie and I exchanged a sort of panicked glance.

"Hi," I said.

Someone else came around to stand beside Jerome. She put her hand on his arm, but she didn't pay attention to me or Freddie. "What about Rory?" Jazza asked. He didn't respond, so she looked at us. The light bulb turned on. "Rory!" Jazza pounced on me.

"Keep it down!" I said, but I hugged her back.

She pulled away from me, her baby doe eyes crinkled up from her smile. "Your hair is pink! You look so different! We just saw you, and your hair is already pink!" Everything she said was a little too excited. Jazza must have had a few drinks already.

"Yeah," I said. "It's a wig, actually. I'm trying to look different, you know?"

Jerome folded his arms. "But what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be keeping a low profile," he asked just loudly enough for us to hear him.

Freddie nodded. "We're working. Training, sort of. I don't know how much you know…"

"He knows enough," I told her. "About ghosts. There's been weird stuff happening and since it's near Wexford, I figured this had something to do with me. Freddie's on the team that's in charge of protecting me now. I brought her with me for support in case..."

"In case?" Jerome prompted.

"In case something bad happens.

Jerome nodded. "I've kept an eye on things since you ran away. That girl from Thursday is still in critical condition. So you two came out on your own?"

I hated to burst his bubble since he sounded a little hopeful so I didn't say anything. Freddie shook her head and pointed to the bar. "No. Stephen's sitting over there keeping an eye on us, but he can't really do anything else since this really has to be something Rory does."

"No pressure," I joked with a tight grin.

Jerome didn't look too happy. "Who is he, anyway?"

"He's in charge," Freddie said.

"What about that guy with the white hair?" Jerome prodded, trying to get more information.

"He's in charge of Stephen," Freddie said before I could stop her. I nudged her in the ribs. Jerome and Jazza were to know as little as possible about the team. "By the way," Freddie said as she hurried to cover her mistake, "I don't think we've met. I'm Freddie Sellars." She held out her hand to Jazza, who smiled widely and took it. She gave Freddie a weird look. It wasn't a bad look. It was sort of… Sexy? I definitely hadn't seen Jazza give anyone that look before.

"I'm Julianne Benton. I used to be Rory's roommate until she _abandoned me__._" Jazza shot a mock pout in my direction. "You can call me Jazza, if you like. Everybody does."

"So what are you two doing here?" I asked again.

"It's like I said," Jerome shrugged. "I've been keeping an eye on things, too. Besides, we needed a drink."

I nodded. I had fed Jerome a glimpse into his favorite thing: conspiracies. Of course he would start to obsess over the ghost spewing crack in the ground, and do so more efficiently than I had. I smiled, and looked back to the bar to make sure Stephen was doing okay.

Without warning, the lights cut out. My breath caught as we were plunged into darkness. I had bad experiences with the dark. I couldn't move. My breathing came out quick and heavy. I didn't know what was wrong with me, or why I was reacting like this. I reached out and caught someone's arm. "It's alright, Rory," Freddie said. She took my hand off of her arm and laced her fingers through mine. Freddie was solid. Freddie kept me here instead of spiraling to wherever my mind was trying to go.

I saw a beam of light on the other side of the club. That was the bar. That was where Stephen was. That would be Stephen with his flashlight. The light searched the room and landed on me. I squinted against it and held up Freddie's hand. The light moved away to behind the bar.

My eyes adjusted enough to the dark that I could see outlines. I could make out Jerome's curly hair and Jazza's silhouette next to him. The club was one big sound of disappointment. Everyone was grumbling or sighing. I think a few girls had screamed when the lights went out. Now they were just waiting for the lights and the music to come back on.

What was the point of this? What was the game this ghost was playing? Maybe it wasn't playing a game. Maybe the electrical hiccup was just a side effect of its presence. Ghosts did that, right? I kept looking around the club for something that seemed different.

The power came back on. The loud music replaced the groaning of the drunk patrons. Over Freddie's shoulder, I saw something. It didn't look exactly like a person. It didn't have a distinctive shape. This was a much scarier version of a kid's ghost Halloween costume. Just a sheet with holes for eyes. I couldn't hear if it made any noise, but there was definitely a vibe coming off of it. A really bad vibe.

It was getting close to us. The ghost stopped at the group next to ours. It reached out and touched the girl behind Freddie. It's hand was wrong. It looked burnt. It's flesh was black and gray and raw. It ran its fingers over the girl's skin and she rubbed her arm like she was trying to get rid of a bug. Somehow it grinned. I watched this, and my friends watched me.

I looked at Freddie. She turned and saw the ghost as well. Jerome and Jazza watched us in confusion. Freddie turned back to me. I put my hands on her shoulders. "You got me?" I asked. Freddie nodded, looking determined. I closed my eyes for a second. I didn't know how this one would go. I tried to keep up the act that we were just a cute couple out for a good time. I wrapped my arms around her and we swayed. I stuck my hand out but I couldn't reach. I pushed her a little further back.

For a split second, the ghost turned and saw me. I could hear it now. It made an awful grinding screech as it watched me reach for it. I wanted to hide my face in Freddie's neck. It went to grab my hand as I sunk my palm right into its stomach. The noise got louder. My bones went cold.

I collapsed into Freddie.

I was aware that someone was holding me. Whoever it was was warm and their sweater was soft. The smell of burnt flowers still surrounded us. The person had a deep voice, which I felt vibrating through their chest as they spoke in what sounded like an argument.

"Why make her do it if you know it hurts her? Hasn't she been hurt enough? Rory doesn't need anymore bad stuff, she doesn't need you," I heard Jerome say.

"It's up to Rory to decide what she needs," Stephen said very calmly. "You know that she is making her decisions of her own free will. She decided to be here tonight. Now I need to take her somewhere safe."

"I don't believe she's safe anywhere you are."

"Stop," I moaned. It was very hard. I couldn't think of the word at first, and then there was the process of actually making my mouth move and my voice work. My brain and body didn't want to work together.

Someone's hand was on my cheek. "Rory," Jazza said softly, like talking to a sick child. "Are you alright?"

I hummed. Even that was difficult. I focused really hard and was able to move my arms. I slipped them around Stephen's neck and pulled myself up to press my face there as well. "Need… sit… rest." Talking was definitely not working.

I felt him nod. "Explain this?" This must have been to Freddie. Stephen started to walk away. He didn't exactly carry me. That probably would have gotten too much attention, but he was as good as. He carried all my weight, only letting my feet drag slightly on the ground. He had both his arms around my waist. I could stay here…

"Excuse me, do you mind if we–?" I heard a group of girls clammer in assent as they probably scooted around. Stephen sat me down on a cushion booth and slid in very close so I could lean on his arm.

I felt someone stroke my arm. "Had a bit much to drink, love?" I got my eyes to open and saw about four girls looking at me. I nodded. "Mm, here this is mostly water now," the girl beside me said. She held out her drink and brought the straw to my lips.

Seeing the drink made me realize how parched I was. I managed to close my lips around the straw. Even being watered down, I got a strong hit of vodka. It burned a little as I swallowed it. I gagged and recoiled. I wasn't prepared for that and I was in no state to take it like a champ.

Stephen rubbed my back. "I'll go get you a water," he said in my ear. I laid my head on the table as he got up and walked away.

"Your man seems so sweet!" One girl gushed.

"Thanks," I mumbled.

"Clark never used to worry about me so much when we went out. I always had to be the sober one," she moaned. I listened as she and her friends listed all the bad traits of their boyfriends and their exes. It was kind of nice to just hear about normal things in normal lives.

I sat up when I started to feel a little stronger. They included me in their conversation. Sitting back and listening was much easier than talking, and luckily they had a lot to say. Stephen came back with a glass of water and sat beside me as they gushed over how sweet they thought he was and how cute we were. I just sipped water from the cup Stephen held for me and closed my eyes again. The fact that I was leaning into him and his arm was around my shoulder probably didn't make us seem single.

"How do you feel?" Stephen asked.

"Tired," I breathed. "Could we go back to the flat?"

"Yes," he said, sounding relieved. "Stay here, I'll go find Freddie."

"Can I go to the bathroom? I'll meet you back here." Stephen took a moment to look at me, probably to determine whether he could leave me alone, and then nodded. He went off into the crowd and I used all my energy to stand up and walk to the restrooms.

I rested my weight against the sink counter at first. Splashing some cold water on my face helped wake me up a little. I fixed the smudges in my makeup before finally going into a stall. A couple of girls came in and I heard the distinct slow smacking of kissing lips. They didn't even stop when I flushed. I really love drunk people. They get so caught up in themselves. It's annoying a lot of the times when it physically involves you, but this was something I could deal with. They were probably too drunk for it to get awkward.

I opened the stall and stepped out to wash my hands but I was caught off guard. The girl against the wall was Jazza. She was kissing someone a little shorter than her, who had curly brown hair. "Um?"

Freddie jumped back as soon as she heard my voice. "Rory!" They both looked at me with terrified expressions. I looked back with mild amusement mixed with confusion. I blinked a few times, then proceeded to walk to the sink and wash my hands.

"Gotta say, I'm a little offended I didn't get this treatment the first time we met." I giggled as Jazza floundered for words. "Kidding. Stephen's looking for you," I told Freddie. "We're about to leave. He probably wants you to come with, but I can make up an excuse if you want." I grabbed a paper towel to dry off and looked at them again. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do." I smiled and walked out.

Honestly, I was too tired to tease them further at the moment. That could wait for some other time. I caught Stephen at the door. "I couldn't find Freddie," he said urgently. "Did you see her?"

"Yeah, actually she was in the bath–"

"Hey, have you seen Jazz?" I turned around to see Jerome. "I've been looking for her. She and Freddie started talking and went to the bar and I haven't seen them since."

"Yeah, they were in the bathroom."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I assured him. "We're actually about to head out though. I'm exhausted." I turned to Stephen. "I don't know if Freddie's up to leaving with us though. She seemed a little preoccupied."

He didn't ask any questions, but he nodded. "Well, then I guess we can go."

I smiled and turned to Jerome. "I'm okay. Really. I just need some sleep. I am glad you ran into us." Jerome just nodded. He was biting his tongue, and I was grateful for it. I couldn't deal with any of our baggage tonight.

"So am I," he finally said. "I'll get Freddie and Jazza home safe." He stuck out his hand. "It was… good to see you again."

Stephen grasped Jerome's hand and shook it once. I smiled. Jerome really was a good guy. He had his manners and he would try to behave for my sake. "You, too," Stephen told him.

We said goodbye and Stephen wrapped his arm around my waist again when I stumbled as we walked out to the car. He helped me in and buckled me up.

I must have dozed off on the drive back to the flat because it felt like we were there in seconds. He walked up the stairs behind me and once we were in the flat I went straight to Callum's room. Technically, it was my room as well. And Boo's on occasion, in which case I would sleep on the couch. I heard Stephen talking to Boo and Callum, probably catching them up on where we had been. I was already in bed under the covers when Stephen came in.

"You sure you're alright?" He asked.

"Yeah," I exhaled. "Just really sleepy. Ugh, I forgot to take off my makeup. Hey, could you go to the bathroom and get me one of the wipes behind the mirror?"

"Er- yeah," he said. While he went to the bathroom, I took off my new wig and tossed it back in the bag with the others. Under the covers, I slipped out of my jeans. I stretched out of the bed to reach for a big T-shirt on the floor to change into. It was probably Callum's. Stephen came back in and handed me the wipe. "Here you go."

"Thanks," I said, rubbing it over my face. I felt like I had done a sufficient job, so I looked back at Stephen and asked, "Did I get it all?"

"Mostly. Here." He took the cloth from me and wiped around my eyes. He told me to look up so he could get under my eyes. His hand moved very gently over my face.

"Thank you," I repeated. I smiled at him as I laid down, pulling the covers tighter around me. "Goodnight, Stephen."

"Goodnight, Rory," he replied. His voice sounded muffled and I didn't remember him leaving.

We were sitting at a booth in a diner. Stephen was in uniform. I was just wearing a sheet. "They're in the bathroom," Stephen said.

"Who?" I asked. There didn't seem to be anyone in this place but us.

"Regina and her friend. They're in the bathroom." He leaned in closer and whispered, "they're doing drugs. That's what her friend brought."

"Your sister?" He nodded. "Stephen, your sister isn't in the bathroom."

"She is. You can finally meet her." There was something wrong with that statement. I was pretty sure Regina was not in the bathroom. The only thing I could think of was to kiss Stephen. Maybe that would wake him up out of whatever trance he was in.

Something told me Stephen did not want to kiss me. I didn't want to kiss Stephen if he didn't want me to. I bit my lip. We had kissed before, hadn't we? Why shouldn't we now? But I was certain this was not a good time to do that.

Instead I stood up and walked to the bathrooms. I was almost scared to open the door. I stuck my head inside the bathroom. It didn't sound like anyone was in there. "Hello?" I called. No one answered me. None of the stalls looked occupied. I sighed and closed the door.

"Behind you," a voice said. Startled, I turned around. In front of me was a pale girl with brown hair. She wore a lot of bangles on her arm and a short dress. She looked real.

I recognized her from a picture. She was a little taller than me, probably because she was wearing heels. "Re—" Regina covered my mouth and put her finger to her lips.

"Don't say my name," she said. "He'll hear you."

"Stephen? Do you not want him to know you're here?" She shook her head. "I feel like… I shouldn't be here," I told her.

"Of course you should. I picked this from your memory. You're meant to be here," Regina said. I couldn't make sense of this information.

"_My_ memory? I've never been here…" I looked around. A second ago, I was certain that I'd never been here before. Then it started to feel more familiar. Hadn't Stephen and I had a conversation here once? We kissed…

Regina was playing with the bangles on her arm. "I'm here for you, Rory. There's something about you I can hold onto," she said. She looked at me again. "You can't trust them."

"Who?" I asked.

She hesitated for a moment as she stared deeply at me. "Sid and Sadie are not the only ones who want to use you. You are in danger, Rory. You can't trust any of them." Regina craned her neck to look back. I followed her gaze. "Not even him."

I opened my mouth to ask why I couldn't trust Stephen, but Regina started to walk away. "Wait, where are you going?"

Regina pushed the exit open. "Don't go in the bathroom," she said. She walked out.

I stared out after her, and I knew I couldn't follow. I looked back to where Stephen sat in his trance, waiting for his sister. I heard the bathroom door open behind me. I turned around.

"Hello, little diamond." Sadie's hand was around my throat before I could even process what was in front of me. My windpipe was being crushed effortlessly. I scratched at her hand, but she seemed unbothered. My vision started to tunnel. I gagged as she squeezed my throat.

I blinked in the darkness. I was heaving for air. I brought my hand up to my throat to find it free. A silhouette moved in front of me. I shot my fist out and made contact with the shadow person's stomach. I heard a low groan.

"Stephen? Oh my god, I'm so sorry," I gasped. I still felt breathless. I dropped to my knees.

"It's fine," he said, but he did not sound super fine. I had punched him as hard as I could. He got down to the floor as well. My eyes adjusted to the dark as I slowly regained control of my lungs. "Deep breaths," Stephen coached. He rested his hand on the curve of my neck.

"I'm sorry," I said again.

He ignored my apology. "Are you okay?"

"I think so," I told him. "How did I get out here?"

I saw the line of his shoulders raise up. "You opened my door. I tried to talk to you but you came back out here. I heard you talking and came out to see who you were talking to but you were alone. Then you started to gag and I realized you weren't breathing so I tried to come help."

"I sleepwalked?"

"I guess so. Have you ever done that before?"

"No. I mean, I've mumbled in my sleep, but I've never walked or had a full out conversation. You said it sounded like I was talking to someone?"

"Yes. I was surprised that no one was in here with you."

I looked away from him, trying to recall my dream. I put my hand on top of his in what I hoped he took as an absent gesture. He didn't move.

I remembered then. I had been talking to Regina. She said I couldn't trust Stephen. She didn't want me to say her name. Like she knew I was talking out loud.

Stephen squeezed his hand around my fingers. "Are you alright?" He asked.

I nodded. I couldn't tell him about my dream. I didn't want him to worry. And I definitely didn't want to tell him I had talked to his dead sister whom I had never met. Who told me not to trust him. "Yeah," I sighed. "Are you? I'm sorry, I think I was being attacked in my dream and when I saw you move closer, I panicked."

"I'm alright," he said. "I'm more worried about you. This could be some manifestation of PTSD."

"Maybe," I agreed. "But I've had enough of doctors and shrinks recently. Please, could we just keep this quiet."

I squeezed his hand. He was silent for a long time, but I saw him nod. Stephen let out a deep breath. I was tired again, but I didn't want to move away from this spot. Regina said I couldn't trust him, but she didn't say why. Maybe I just couldn't trust him to cook me a good omelette? Maybe I could still trust him just enough to kiss him again. He could push me away and I could blame it on being sleepy. And then he could pull me back and we could both blame it on being sleepy…

"You should go back to sleep," Stephen said before I could actually talk myself into leaning forward. "You can take my bed; I'll take the couch."

I scoffed. "I'm not gonna kick you out of your own room," I told him.

"Rory, I don't mind–"

"Stephen, I'll just stay with you. That way you can stop me if I start doing anything weird again." I stood up with my hand still wrapped around his and waited for him to follow. Stephen's room was mostly back to the way it was before we raided it. I didn't dwell on this. I hurried up to pick a side of the bed and made myself comfy. My eyes were starting to droop, but I waited for his hesitation to pass before I let myself fall asleep.

I finally felt the bed shift as Stephen climbed under the covers. He stayed on his side. As soon as he was settled, I was fading back into the warm grasp of sleep.


	3. 3

The next day went so fast that my head spun. After the jam packed few days in which we looked for Stephen, a day of nothing was welcome but bizarre. Thorpe wanted me to leave the flat as little as possible to minimize the chance of me being recognized. Stephen was pretty much in charge of keeping an eye on me. I guess Thorpe was still upset that Stephen had been keeping things hidden from him, and this was sort of his punishment. I wasn't complaining. We used the time to try to find out more about what Sid and Sadie could be trying to do, and not talk about the fact that we had slept in the same bed the night before. We also didn't kiss anymore. Not even a little. I was disappointed.

Actually living with the team was weird. I had lived with Boo, and I had sort of slept in the same house as her and Callum, but the circumstances were very different then. Now we were all living in their cramped flat, and in a few days Freddie would join, too. Thorpe wanted to keep her here for the investigation. Stephen was trying to find a new place, but that was hard to do on a Shades' budget.

Stephen, Boo, and Callum acted like they were trying to pick up where they left off, which apparently meant going to the gym together. I didn't realize I knew people who went to the gym. I never used to associate closely with such people if I could help it. Lucky for me, basically being under house arrest was a good excuse not to join them. Stephen tried to stay with me because someone had to. It took a lot of promising from me, and relenting to only stay at the gym for a short time from Boo and Callum, but that evening the three of them left me. I wasn't sure what to do with myself. I tried to do some more research on Sid and Sadie. That was of course getting nowhere. I flipped channels on the TV and fell asleep before they got back.

I woke up still on the couch, curled up under a throw blanket from Boo's bed. I could smell eggs. "Is there coffee?" I groaned from where I lay.

"Good morning," Boo sang as she came to sit by my legs. I opened my eyes. She was holding out a mug.

"_Bless youuuu_," I said as I sat up and took the mug from her. The delicious aroma of coffee made me tear up a little.

"It's just coffee," Callum called from the kitchen.

"Yeah, and I've been living off y'all's crappy leaf water for the last few days. Let me _have this_." They laughed as I put the blanket over my head and walked into the kitchen.

"Callum, we have to go," Boo said,

"Go where?" I asked.

"I'm starting my new assignment today. Callum's got to return to the tubes." She glanced at Stephen, who wasn't paying attention, then to me and winked. I cocked my head trying to play dumb. Boo smirked. Of course that wouldn't work. Callum however _was_ paying attention.

"No," he said loudly. Callum got up, stretched and brought his dishes to the sink. "I won't lose anymore money. So don't." He pointed a finger at me as he walked past me and he and Boo left.

"What was he going on about?" Stephen had finally chosen to look up from his papers and continue eating.

I put what was left of the scrambled eggs on my plate and went to sit across from him. "I think him and Boo have a new bet on us."

"Ah," he said after a long moment of chewing. I still wasn't used to seeing Stephen eat. There are some people you just can't picture eating. Stephen was one of them. I saw him surviving solely on tea and paperwork. "Who do you think will win?"

I considered this question with mild surprise. "Hmmm. I'm kinda hoping Boo does." Stephen nodded slowly in agreement. I saw the hint of a smile. "We'll see. Depending on their agreed terms, she may have already won," I added. Was this how flirting with Stephen was going to go? Just casually talking about us doing stuff as if it was happening on some TV show we liked?

There was a knock at the door. I got up and shuffled over to look through the peephole. Stephen got up and brought our plates to the sink where he started the process of washing dishes. I opened the door to Freddie smiling brightly at me.

"Morning," she chirped. She passed me into the apartment. "Just the two of you again?" Freddie looked from me to Stephen in the kitchen.

"Callum and Boo just left. Stephen doesn't have a new car yet."

"That," Freddie said hopping over the back of the couch, "and he's the only one who can keep you in check."

We both saw Stephen jerk his head. He had definitely heard that one. I shrugged and walked back over to my coffee. "Fact."

"Any plans for today?"

"No," I said. "Not for me. Plan on seeing Jazza again?" I smirked and raised an eyebrow. Freddie's ears turned red.

Stephen walked up beside me, wiping his hands on a dish rag. "Jazza?"

"My roommate," I said.

"I remember. Why would Freddie be seeing her?"

Before I could further tease Freddie, there was another knock at the door. As Stephen walked over to answer it, Freddie relaxed. I knew she was grateful for the distraction, but I wasn't going to let this go.

"Good morning," Thorpe greeted the room.

"Hey," I said, plopping down on the couch.

"Freddie, I'm glad you're here," he said. Freddie looked up, almost like she was scared of being in trouble. Thorpe handed her a small leather pocket book with a badge on the front. "This is a temporary warrant card," he told her. "Do not abuse the power this grants you. You will have to go through extensive training to officially earn this, but given the circumstances I decided it might be best for you to have this on your person."

Freddie stared, her lips slightly parted, as she opened and closed it. She looked up wide-eyed and uttered a quiet, "Thank you."

I felt Stephen's eyes on me. I smiled at him and brought my mug to my lips. I took a nice long sip of my blessed bean juice as I turned back to watch this exchange. I realized all eyes were on me and froze with my mug in front of my face. I raised my eyebrows.

"What about Rory?" Freddie asked before I could find my own words. "She's been part of the team longer than I have, and she plays a more crucial role, right? She deserves to have one, too." For a moment, my heart burst for Freddie Sellars.

"There are multiple reasons Rory cannot have a warrant card, but the main one at the moment is that she is still a missing persons." He stared at me, as if waiting for an attack. Stephen watched me as well.

"Well, if Rory can't have one, I shouldn't-"

"That's fair," I said smoothly. I caught a hint of pleasant surprise in Stephen's eyes, though he didn't let his expression waver. "I'm a runaway, I'm still under protection. I'm not even a citizen yet. Besides, I'm never really supposed to be on my own, right? So as long as I'm with one of y'all, I shouldn't need one. Right? So, I'm with Thorpe. No one ever even planned on me becoming part of the team. My involvement is mostly like a fluke. You were being vetted. So you keep that and I'll stick with one of y'all." Apparently no one was expecting this response. They just continued to stare at me like I had just recited Shakespeare in Latin. "What?"

"Nothing," Thorpe said. "Stephen let's go."

"I need to grab my coat." He turned to go into his room.

"Right. We'll be back in a couple of hours. We have some business to attend to. Rory, stay with Freddie."

"Okay," I said. With that, Thorpe turned and walked back out the door.

"So," Freddie said. "What should we do?"

"We could go on a coffee date," I told her as Stephen returned. He had put on a button down shirt now and was adjusting his coat.

Freddie's cheeks went pink at the mention of a date. "You're already drinking coffee."

"I'm finished. There's no such thing as too much coffee."

"Actually-"

"Whatever the two of you do," Stephen interrupted, "please keep a low profile and try not to get into any trouble."

"Us? Never." I smiled up at him. He looked at me earnestly. I rolled my eyes. "Fine. _Yes, sir._" Having gotten the response out of me that he wanted, he looked at Freddie.

"We'll do our best," she said.

Stephen nodded, apparently satisfied. His hand brushed against my shoulder as he walked to the door. It was subtle, but deliberate.

"So, what do you want to do?"

Freddie finally sat beside me. "Well, I had an idea. Maybe it's a stupid one."

"It's probably better than no idea at all, which currently is what I've got to offer."

"Right. Well I thought maybe… Clover might know something more about what Sid and Sadie are like. And he might tell us more without Thorpe around…" She chewed on her lip as she looked at me.

"Okay," I said. "Is the shop open? I just need to go get dressed and brush my teeth and we can go." Her eyes lit up. I stood and headed to Callum's room. I wasn't sure if anything would actually come from this, but it was better than nothing.

We took a cab to get to the shop. We did stop at a cafe for some coffee before walking the rest of the way. I wore a blonde wig and a mask that Dr. Marigold had given me. It made my face feel hot and humid.

Freddie texted Stephen our whereabouts. Both of us decided it was a good idea to keep him updated. I hardly had to push against the door to get it to open this time. The tinkling of bells welcomed us. The store was as cold inside as it was on the street. I held the door for Freddie and closed it behind her. It was somehow more cramped than I remembered it, but we were the only people here. No one was even at the counter. I looked at Freddie who was biting her lip. She looked frozen in place. "Does something seem… off to you?" I pulled my mask under my chin.

We stood there for a moment watching each other. There was a different light shining from the back of the store, more like light coming through a window. This was new. The air smelled worse than before. There wasn't a smell of fresh incense burning, but rather the smell of faded incense mixed with a new, equally awful smell. It reminded me of the time Cousin Diane's plumbing got backed up. Incense and sewage mixing together. "Can I see your phone?" She unlocked her phone and handed it to me. The screen was all cracked up and her background displayed a topless mermaid. I went through her texts to find Stephen and called him. After a few rings, he answered. "Hey," I said. "Um, it's Rory. Are you still with Thorpe? Are you guys near Clover's bookshop?"

Freddie turned back again and called out for Clover. "I'm with him. I'm not sure if we're near Clover's shop. We met Callum at Piccadilly Circus station. Is everything alright?"

"I'm… I'm not sure." I felt like a child. We didn't know if there was anything wrong here. We had barely stepped over the threshold and I was already running to Stephen because a smelly shop smelled a little more. Freddie slowly took some steps further into the store. "We thought maybe something was wrong, but nevermind. It's stupid-"

"RORY."

"FREDDIE?" I yelled back. I heard her make a noise, like she was trying to scream again, but then she let out a sickly belch and a splashing sound. I tried to navigate through the cramped shelves to get to her. Stephen said my name. "Actually, can you just get here?"

"Thorpe said in ten minutes."

"Great. Oh my god." My stomach dropped as fast as the phone fell from my hand. Freddie was on her hands and knees, next to Clover who was lying still against the back wall. His head was bent wrong. This explained the smell which was stronger in this spot.

I tried not to gag and grabbed the back of Freddie's shirt. The smell and sight of vomit nearly made me lose my breakfast but I tugged Freddie's arm and we walked back to the front door. As soon as we were outside, she heaved forward and was sick again on the street. I wanted to comfort her but I was going to be sick myself if I stayed with her.

I turned around when I heard a whoosh behind me. I stepped back in. There was a figure standing behind the counter. Approaching it, I asked, "Excuse me? Did you see what happened here?"

They turned around. They looked very much like someone who would come to this shop. They had long hair and wore a crop top and bell-bottoms. They opened their mouth, but the only sound that came out was a raspy rush of air. They looked very sad. "Could you help me?" I asked them. "If you know anything. Could you help?" I did my best to ignore that there was a dead body a few feet away from me. I tried to focus on this ghost, standing in front of me, looking so sad and pointing at the ground. I couldn't see what they were pointing at. I took a few steps closer to the counter, and the smell hit me again. I gagged against the bile rising in my throat and put the mask back over my mouth and nose to keep out the scent.

On the floor behind the counter lay the body of the girl who had been working the last time I came here. Freddie had called her Cressida? She was still wearing her hat with the shiny discs. Her eyes were open, her pupils too wide to even make out any color. All I could do was stare at this girl who was probably only a few years older than me with her head turned the wrong way and her eyes stuck staring at a moldy ceiling.

I tore my gaze away. The ghost looked as if they were crying now, but there were no tears. "Who did this?" My voice was demanding. It had unexpected force. They looked back at me for a second then ducked under the hatch of the counter and walked towards the back. I took one last glance at the girl. It was a mistake. I rushed to follow them into the back room where we had spoken with Clover. That was just a few days ago…

The ghost paused to stare at me, still crying silently. I didn't know how much longer I could hold back from puking. I was literally holding my breath. Finally, they pointed to the cabinet. I let myself take in some air. They watched me walk across the small room and open the cabinet. I could barely see them in my peripheral vision.

The cabinet looked like it was where Clover and Cressida put their personal belongings during their shift. First, I reached for the purse, then I hesitated. There was a pair of gloves sitting just inside the purse. I grabbed them, doing my best not to touch anything else. Then I was wearing a dead girl's gloves. I didn't want to dwell on that. I searched her bag, pushing through a pack of cigarettes, a small glass pipe, a lighter, and some other things. I found a wallet in a zipped off compartment and took out her I.D. Her name really was Cressida. She was 23. My chest felt tight.

I turned to searching through Clover's things. I searched the pockets of his coat. All I found were keys and his wallet. I searched the shelf of the cabinet, but there wasn't anything there. I went over Clover's coat one more time and found a pocket sewn on the inner fabric. In it was a small notebook. I flipped through the pages. Lots of very small handwriting. Lots of numbers.

I turned back to the ghost. "Does this mean something?" They nodded. They came towards me with arms outstretched. Did they want a hug? "I can't," I said. "If I touch you, you go away." They took another step towards me. They didn't want to stay here. Why were they crying? "Wait, what does this mean? Does this have to do with what happened to them?" Their face crumpled. I guess that meant yes. "I don't want to do this," I told them. They were almost to me now. They lowered their arms for a second. Then they wrapped themself around me, and they were gone, and with a flash of pain, so was I.

I stood in my grandma's backyard, looking to the bayou that cut through it. On the bay was an alligator. It didn't move. I knew it wouldn't either. Grandpa came out and touched my head. I was much shorter, like I was a child again. My head reached his elbow. "Nature's takin' its course. Not something you'll want to see, kiddo."

"Grandpa," I said ripping my eyes away to look up at him. "What happens when you die?"

"Well you know better than I do where we go if that's what you mean." His smiling face looked down. He winked. What was he talking about? "But if you mean what happens to these old carcasses, well, it depends on where you are. But I'll tell you, the older I get, the more I make sure I'm using the john. Never know when I'm gonna go. My daddy died pretty young. And when I do go, I don't want anyone finding me in an embarrassing way."

"Embarrassing how?" I asked him.

"Well… when a body truly dies, everything tightens. Then everything relaxes. Even the things we don't know aren't relaxed. I don't want anyone finding me with my pants full of crap."

"Gross," I laughed. Grandpa was always one for potty humor. "The good news for you is that you didn't."

"That's good to hear." We looked back at the alligator. "Can't say the same about those poor folks. I guess I better get to getting rid of this feller. Get back out there, Sha." He patted my head and I watched him make his way toward the bayou.

I felt cold hands slide up from my neck to caress my cheeks. A thumb brushed lightly over my eyelid. A ringing in my ears muffled the sounds around me. Was someone saying my name? My head felt cold. I was jostled a bit as whoever was touching me pulled me onto their lap. They tapped my cheek. I tried to open my eyes but everything was blurry. Then finally my eyes shot open. I needed to hold on for just a few more seconds. I scanned the room quickly. I pushed away from Stephen as hard as I could and scurried to the bin next to the chair. I ripped the mask off my face just in time as my body heaved.

"Shit," I heard Callum say. Stephen was back beside me with his hand on the back of my neck. It felt good, but I didn't want him so close to me like this. I would have swatted him away if I could find the energy. When it was finally over, I collapsed onto Stephen's lap, my cheek hitting the floor. Stephen tried to help me up, but I couldn't move. "Did she pass out?"

I tried to say no, but I couldn't. My eyelids fluttered. "I don't think so," Stephen told him. He sounded worried. Of course he was worried. He had just walked into a bookshop with two dead bodies and me puking my guts out.

"Callum, bring her to the car. Try to make her comfortable," Thorpe said. I hated everyone talking around me, and not being able to add input. Callum walked over and took me from Stephen. He wasn't as gentle as Stephen had been the other night, and I could offer no help to support myself. I hung like a rag doll. I could tell it wasn't easy for him to get himself plus me out of the small shop, but we emerged back outside. While it was cold in the shop, the fresh air hitting my skin still helped.

Callum laid me down in the back seat of Thorpe's car, Freddie putting my head in her lap, and shut the door. "I'm sorry, Rory. We shouldn't have come here. I shouldn't have…" she trailed off. No offense to Freddie, but the smell of her breath wasn't helping. I wished I could put my mask back on, but that probably would have just kept my breath clouding around my nose.

Thorpe, Stephen, and Callum were talking outside the car now. Stephen sounded angry. I didn't like it.

"We don't even know what happened," Thorpe said.

"Look at her," Stephen snapped. "I know exactly what happened. She can't keep doing it. It's getting worse every time."

Callum pitched in. "Stephen, she's still a terminus. We still need her. But- listen, I agree with you to an extent, mate. She was in pain when I saw her do it. I don't know what's happening to her, but maybe that doctor can figure something out."

"Fine. Can we go see her? Soon. I'd rather not wait. Rory needs help."

"I'll make a call to Marigold. But as long as Rory's willing to perform as a terminus, you are not to stop her, Stephen," Thorpe said. They didn't say anything else. I wanted to scream that no, I was not willing to do this anymore, I hadn't even been willing just now, I was scared, but I was only just starting to feel some strength return to my body. I didn't want to waste it.

Callum got into the back with Freddie and I. He sat me up and put my head on his shoulder. "You waking up yet?"

I struggled to open my eyes, but I did it. Stephen was in the passenger seat, looking at me through the rearview mirror. "Try-ing. 'S hard." Callum put his arm around my shoulders and squeezed.

"What happened?" He asked.

"Ghost. Cried… Hug. Boom."

"They hugged you?" Stephen said. "Did you touch them or vice versa?"

"They… they touched m-me. Didn't want. Said no." God, this whole talking thing was hard. How did I do it so much?

Stephen sighed and shot a pointed look at Thorpe. Thorpe stared straight ahead, looking as young, official, and grey haired as ever. Stephen turned to face me and held something up. The notebook. "You were holding this. What is it?"

"Ghost led me to it. Clover's." I felt warmth on my cheek. I hadn't meant to start crying but I remembered something. Stephens eyes got wide. I did my best to lift my arms. "Gloves. Please." He stared at my hands and set the notebook in his lap. He reached over and slipped the gloves off my hands.

"You weren't wearing those before, were you?" Freddie asked. Her voice was wobbly.

I shook my head the tiniest bit. "Cressida. Fingerprints. I…" I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Thick, hot tears were running down my face and there was nothing I could do. Stephen looked pained. He turned back to the notebook. We sat in silence for a few minutes, besides a page turning here and there. Callum was strong and warm. I was grateful to be leaning on him.

We reached the entrance to the Tube and Thorpe stopped. Callum got out and slid me over to the spot behind Thorpe, where he had sat. He buckled me up and put his hand on my shoulder. "Feel better," he said. "I'll see you guys later." He shut the door and I leaned my head against the window. Thorpe started driving again and the silence returned.

As we got closer to the flat, Stephen broke it. "You all are mentioned in here."

"What?" Thorpe said sharply.

"Freddie you're mentioned a few other times, but here. This one's dated just a few days ago. 'F brought two friends along this time. Asked about J. Should warn her. Hard to say anything around a pig. Good excuse. The other one was special though. I could tell. J must've known, too. Will keep in mind for S and S.'"

"What's S and S?" Freddie asked.

For once, I was able to put something together before anyone else. "Sid and Sadie," I mumbled.

Stephen shifted to look at me again. He looked pained. "Rory."

"But… no!" Freddie looked upset. "Clover helped me. He was my friend."

Stephen looked to her. "He only uses first letters for names. At first I didn't realize he was talking about you, but all the other times you're mentioned, it seems like he was getting information from you. Were you helping him find something?"

"No, I…" Her eyes got wider. She stared at Stephen with new intensity. Her mouth shaped a horrified O. "We were just talking. I would ask him about things like magic and Jane. I was trying to get information. And I would tell him about the websites I was on most… about the Eye of Isis and other objects and myths. He… he didn't use the internet very well."

"He used us," I said bluntly.

Freddie whipped around. She was starting to cry. "But he was my friend! You heard him. Remember? He said Jane's crowd was too much for him. That he thought Sid and Sadie were crazy! He wouldn't help them."

"He lied." I was angry. I was so angry and I was too weak to do anything about it. I grit my teeth together and turned away from her, pressing my forehead against the cold window. It wasn't her fault. Freddie had gotten taken advantage of the worst.

"I didn't know. Rory. Please I'm sorry." She was really crying now. I could hear it. Freddie was hurting. She had been betrayed. She had actually considered him a friend, and now I was too tired and too angry to be nice to her. I hated feeling like this.

"Don't," I sighed. "It's not… Just don't. I'm so tired of being used."

No one said anything else, and I didn't turn back to look at any of them. I never heard Stephen turn around. I felt his gaze on me.

When we pulled up outside the flat, Thorpe said, "Stephen, take Rory inside. Freddie, I need you to stay with me for a little while longer. You can get in the front."

They got out of the car. Stephen paused to hand something to Freddie. He put his hand on her arm before she got into the front seat. I opened my door as he came around. He held my wig and the notebook in one hand, and held the other out for me. I took it and let him help me out of the car. Thorpe rolled down his window when Stephen didn't move. I looked up at Stephen. "You'll call Felicia?"

"Yes," Thorpe said, " now get her inside before she passes out again."

I slipped as we turned towards the door. Stephen caught my arm and pulled me up, supporting me around the waist. The stairs were too narrow for us to climb together, and my legs were already giving out. He kept a hand on my back as he followed behind me.

He waited until we were in the apartment to say anything. "Rory," Stephen said.

"I need to take a shower." I walked straight into the bathroom and locked the door before he could say anything else. Talking was not working for me right now. I felt disgusting.

I could barely even stand. I brushed my teeth quickly before turning on the water and climbing in. I sat on the floor of the shower, letting the water hit my back and put my forehead on my knees.

How much more could I take of this? Seeing Jane get murdered had been easier. I was having a hard time processing then, but now it haunted me. The way her neck gaped and the blood splattered. On top of that were dreams of bodies contorted on a familiar floor. I didn't know where my imagination was getting that inspiration from, but I definitely wasn't appreciating it. And now this.

With my eyes closed I could so clearly see Clover's body, his head facing the wrong way, his limbs sprawled out and stiff. Was he still in rigor mortis? Was that what Grandpa had been talking about? What did that mean? How long does it take a corpse to go into rigor mortis and how long did it take for it to wear off?

I shivered under the hot water. My mind didn't want to keep thinking about corpses and death's natural course, but kept coming up with new paths to continue down. And the girl at the front desk… had she been involved? Or was she just there? Was the ghost spewed out of the crack? I was sure it wasn't at the shop the first time we went. Was the crack even still relevant anymore? Everything seemed important, and at the same time, none of it did.

My eyes stung and I realized the water running down my cheeks wasn't from the shower. I picked my head back up. I wasn't in the shower at all anymore. I was outside, sitting in the grass. I looked down to make sure I had clothes on. I was covered but I wasn't really dressed. I was wearing a white sheet. I pulled it tighter around me.

"It's not like there's anyone around," a light voice said. I turned to look at Regina.

"You are," I said. She shrugged and came to sit beside me. She was dressed properly, at least. Well, kind of. She was wearing a pair of really short shorts and a t-shirt that looked like she had cut it to show her stomach. You could still see half of a graphic for a band I liked on it. It definitely wasn't a proper London winter outfit, but at least it was real clothes.

"You look like hell," she noted. She reached over and ran her fingers through the hair above my ear. "I do like the haircut though. Like Sinead O'Connor. Once it grows out into a pixie cut, that'll be very cute on you." It felt very nice, the way her fingers moved so lightly on my head. She put her hand on the side of my face and used her thumb to wipe under my eyes. I relaxed into it.

I had not known Regina very long, in fact I wasn't sure why my subconscious had even brought her to me, but she was a welcome presence. A little intimidating, but she seemed to make the world we sat in a lot brighter. Even sitting in a London park in nothing but a sheet, she was warming me up.

"I get jealous of you, you know," she said.

I felt like she had taken the hand so delicately caressing my cheek and slapped me with it. Regina, sitting here beside me, basically came off to me as everything I wanted to be. She was a lot cooler than me, and, especially at the moment, a lot prettier. Her hair was halfway down her back and just the slightest shade lighter than Stephen's. Everything about her posture was relaxed. She was thin enough that she probably never had to worry about sucking in. She reminded me of Jazza in her physique. Maybe Regina had been a swimmer. I could ask Stephen.

"Why?" I asked in disbelief.

Regina put her hand on the ground, and the air stung my cheek. She bit her lip, her eyes shifting over my face. "You get to be with him." I sucked in a sharp breath. "You keep losing each other over and over, but every time, you get him back. I… I lost him once and that was it. I talked to him here and there. The last time he saw me, I was high. Practically in space. That was at my father's flat. Then, every time he heard from me. There was always something to keep me going. And when I tried to get him back, I was so close. But I bollocksed it up."

"I'm sorry. I didn't even think… Honestly, for a second I forgot you were, um…"

"Dead," she laughed darkly. "I'm dead. I was clean. Did you know that?" She looked out over the horizon. Her voice was getting thicker. "I was getting clean, I was so close. I was going to get clean, and get Stephen out of that damned place. He was too good for them. He was. And then one night I'm at a friends house they offered me something. I was thoroughly pissed at that point and I don't know. It was too much. It was too much. I went to sleep. It was almost instantaneous. No one could have stopped it." She shook her head.

I didn't think my brain could make this up. This was awful. I felt sick. I reached for her hand, and she laced her fingers through mine. She felt solid. No boom. "Regina?"

"Mm?"

"If you're dead… how are you here? And how can we do this?" I moved my thumb over the back of her hand.

"I'm really sorry, Rory," Regina sighed. She looked at me again and pouted. "I don't have all the answers. Death didn't make me omnipotent. Mostly, all that I know has to do with my brother, and, well, you."

"Me? Why?"

"Because I want him to be happy, and that means protecting you. Even if that means I have to protect you from him."

The last part threw me for a loop. "What does that mean?" I asked.

With her free hand, she played with the bangles lining her wrist. "Stephen cares about you… A lot. He never really got close to anyone at Eton, and I think that was my fault. When I was alive, I talked so much shit about it. About the people in our world, you know. Then I died, and he definitely shut himself off from anyone like our parents. Since that was all the people he was surrounded by, of course he never grew close to anyone.

"Then he met that guy with the white hair, and he was good to Stephen. He wasn't just looking out for himself, and I think Stephen could tell. For once here was someone who laid his motives out flat, and didn't seem to care only about what Stephen could do for him. And he met someone else that day, who gave him a glimpse of something right up Stephen's alley, and offered him a sense of control, even. Then Stephen sought out the big guy and that fab girl, I really like her. Her name is Boo, right?" I nodded. "Love her. And he liked them and cared about them, but he did all that while trying not to let them do the same for him.

"Then you came in. You didn't choose him, and he didn't choose you. Neither of you had any secret motives, not at first anyway. You didn't need to care about him the way he felt like he had to for you, but you did. And you wouldn't let him shut you out. He was able to actually express emotion for once, even if it wasn't a grand gesture. But then you became a Stone. Now he has to balance all this emotion with his duty, and I think he's following the path he's always taken. He's put his duty first." Regina scooted closer to me as she allowed me to digest her insights.

I felt a pleasant twist in my stomach when she talked about Stephen and I. The way she put us together. But whatever pleasantness I felt from that was fogged from the confusion caused by that last piece of information. "You called me a Stone. Is that because I'm a terminus?" Regina nodded. "But I'm not a Stone. I'm still me." Had I said that before? I shook my head.

"You know," she said. "You just forgot."

Everything felt so familiar when I was with her, but I didn't know why. Maybe this is what she meant. "Can you help me remember?"

"I'm trying."

The air was getting colder fast. I was starting to shiver. "Why? Why am I seeing you?"

She let out a sigh that sounded more like a laugh. "You don't think I'm me. You think that this is all a dream. That you've seen my face once or twice and now your subconscious is using me to put the pieces together for you in a sick turn of events. That I'm really you." She let go of my hand and pushed herself up. Without her beside me, I became violently cold. This was no longer just London cold. This was like being plunged into a frozen river. "You changed something. You opened something up. This is because of you. I can reach you. You have to keep going, Rory," Regina said.

My heart was pounding. This was because of me.

I sat there shaking like a thing that shakes. Regina stood there, in her shorts and cut up t-shirt, unphased. She turned her back to me. "It's time to go," she whispered. "Don't let him shut you out.

"But don't trust him either."


	4. 4

Stephen was knocking on the door. My head shot up. I was shaking so hard I thought I might break my teeth. The hot water had run out a while ago. I was being pelted by an icy shower. I turned around to shut off the water. Climbing out of the tub was a challenge due to how hard I was shivering. I grabbed a towel from the cabinet and wrapped it tautly around me. "S-Sorry," I said as I opened the door. "I th-think I fell asleep."

He looked me over with wide eyes and muttered under his breath. Stephen pushed passed me, reached into the cabinet and grabbed another towel. He wrapped it around my shoulders. "You need clothes. I can make tea." His voice was very matter-of-fact. I think he was panicking.

Maybe Stephen had forgotten that I was living there now and had my own clothes, or maybe he thought my cheap clothes wouldn't be sufficient because he took me straight to his room. He had me sit on the bed and wrapped his green blanket around me before he rummaged through his drawers and laid some clothes beside me. I spent a moment curled up in the blanket after he left the room to warm up a little. The clothes were going to swallow me. At least the pajama pants were. I slipped them on from under the blanket. I could have gone into Callum's room to get some of my own clothes, at least some underwear, but I had absolutely no interest in moving from Stephen's bed. So I was very aware of the fact that I was naked in Stephen's clothes, which thrilled me as much as it made me self conscious.

I pulled the sweater over my head. The color was faded but it was very soft. I didn't bother to roll the sleeves up. Instead, I folded my arms and curled back up, shoving my face into the sheets. The shivering was slowly calming down. I pulled the blanket over my head to cover me whole and laid there for a bit before I heard Stephen come back in. He sat beside the lump that was me. "This is a really soft sweater," I said straight into the mattress.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"Yeah," I breathed, pushing the blanket away from my face and pulling it tighter around the rest of me. "Just cold. But that's kind of the new normal for me?"

"Are you hurt?"

"Nope. No. I think I just… I sat down for a second and I must have fallen asleep."

He nodded in a way that made it seem like he understood better than I did. It wasn't patronizing, though. Just sincere. "You were in shock." Stephen said.

I didn't want to talk about this. Regina didn't want me talking about this, if that was really Regina. At this point, anything was possible. "That's been a recent theme in my life." I tried to joke it off. He didn't laugh. Right. "Is the tea ready?" Stephen nodded, his eyes passing over my face. He was searching me. I felt my cheeks warm up, which was both embarrassing and comforting.

He had changed out of his work clothes into a t-shirt and his Eton sweats. I had worn those once, too. We were sitting pretty close together. On his bed. My mind was definitely thinking about something we could do that would warm me up, and keep him from asking me anymore questions, but there was something about the way he was looking at me. With so much worry in his eyes. It made my heart speed up.

What they don't tell you about scars, thick surgical scars, is that even after they've healed up and stopped hurting, they'll still prickle every once in a while. I felt a quick stabbing pain in my stomach, like someone was using me as a pin cushion. I made a small "eep" sound and practically fell off the bed in my effort to get away from him. I kept the blanket wrapped around me as I shuffled toward the door. I did not need Stephen worrying about me right now. I did not need him asking me questions.

"Are you sure you're alright? You're acting strange," he said as pushed himself off of the bed to follow me.

"I _am_ strange." My foot got caught on one of the pants legs and Stephen caught me.

"At least fit them to you," he said a little sharper than I think he meant to because he wouldn't look me in the eye as he grabbed the waistband and rolled the pants higher on me. I stood there as he did this until I decided to rest my hands on his shoulders. Then I pushed up on my toes and wrapped my arms around his neck. Stephen paused his actions. He accepted this, but didn't reciprocate.

"I _know _this is weird," I said next to his ear, "but could you please, just, hug me back? Cause I'm still cold, and I'm still freaked out, and it would just help a lot." We stayed as we were for a moment in a half hug. Then, finally, I felt him relax and he wrapped his arms around me, and we hugged. It was a strong hug. I was even lifted a bit, just until I was on the very tip of my toes. This was warmth. I took the opportunity to nuzzle into his neck. I felt his chest move with his breathing.

"Do you feel better?" he asked lowly.

"Not yet," I said, and squeezed him a little tighter. I needed to let my heart calm down before I let him go. He let this happen for a few seconds longer, and then I decided I had made him show enough physical affection and sighed. "Thanks," I said as I slipped out of his arms. Stephen didn't say anything back. He followed me into the front room and pushed me towards the couch while he went and poured the tea. It was still warm, and I drank a sip or two even though it was still weird to me. I found myself incredibly thirsty. He sat beside me. We were very pressed together. I had only left so much space between myself and the arm rest. I shifted just a little bit so he wouldn't be squished, but we were still touching. A lot.

I grabbed the TV remote and turned it on. When I sat back, Stephen's arm was resting on the back of the couch right behind my head. So I guess he was making an effort. I tucked my legs under myself. Whatever we were watching stopped making sense to me.

I couldn't remember falling back asleep, but I must have cause I didn't shove my face into Stephen's chest on purpose. At least I didn't remember doing that. I opened my eyes a little bit. Stephen had changed the channel. He was watching a show about cops. Boo was back. She was saying something about waking me up. Stephen's arm held me a little tighter. "Just let her sleep," he said with some force behind it. I could feel it in his chest.

I made up my mind that I wasn't going to move from this spot no matter what. "I'm awake," I mumbled into his shirt.

"You comfy?" Boo said with smugness in her voice.

"Mmm," I responded as I rubbed my face on Stephen's shirt.

"Do you want something to eat?" Boo asked.

"Mmm," I moaned more emphatically. Boo laughed and started talking to some food place on the phone. The next thing I knew she was off of the phone and snapping in my face.

"Don't go to sleep again."

"She's had a really tough day," Stephen said. He pulled me into more of an upright position, but kept his arm around me. I took that as an invitation to keep leaning on him.

"I heard," Boo said. "Callum told me there was trouble. So what happened, then?"

"_No_," I moaned and hid my face is Stephen's shoulder.

"I don't think she's ready to talk about it," he said quietly. Boo didn't push any further.

We heard someone coming up the stairs, keys in the door, and then Callum came through. "Hey," he said as he maneuvered his way around the couch. "How are you feeling?" This was, of course, to me. I was mildly surprised to hear the genuine concern in his voice.

"Sleepy," I said with a throatful of gravel. I rubbed my eye. "Can I go back to sleep?"

Stephen looked like he wanted to say something, but Boo cut in before he could. "No, you need to stay up. Unless you want your food to be reheated and you know it's never as good. Come on, I made you a fresh cuppa. Drink up."

"Thank you," I said, leaning forward to grab the mug. I held it between my hands , but didn't drink any as I cuddled back into Stephen. Boo and Callum exchanged a glance.

"I ordered you the usual," Boo said.

"Thanks," Callum mumbled. They didn't look back at us. They didn't push me to talk about my day. They talked to each other about their days, and I got to sit pressed against Stephen with his arm squeezing my waist until the food came. Callum passed out our respective meals. I was a lot hungrier than I felt, but that made sense. I was the first one finished.

Stephen's phone started to buzz between us. He put his food down on the coffee table and excused himself to his bedroom. I curled back up and let my chin rest on my knees.

"Stop pouting," Boo said. "He's only a few feet away. He'll be right back."

"I'm not pouting," I shot back. I stopped pouting to prove it. Boo shrugged.

I tried to watch the TV where English cops tried to subdue a guy who was definitely on some kind of drugs and wielded a sharp kitchen knife. I could hear Stephen's muffled voice through the door. His voice was getting deeper and quicker. Then he stopped talking for a long moment before he finally came out. My eyes were trained on the TV.

"That was Thorpe," Stephen said to the room, but when I looked up, he was looking at his phone. When he looked up, his face was stony again. He adjusted his glasses and looked at me. "He's bringing Freddie. You're going to brief us as to what happened at the bookshop." His eyes told me that this was not something I should try to talk my way out of. This was a thing that was going to happen. I let out a slow stream of air and nodded before I turned my attention back to the TV. Callum and Boo were staring at me. Callum turned back to watch the show but Boo continued to gaze at me as Stephen resumed his place beside me. I didn't lean into him this time. He didn't put his arms around me again. I wished he would.

I hugged my legs as we sat there, waiting for this leisure time to end. The criminal on TV managed to cut one of the officers before they finally got him under control. I squeezed the fabric around my leg until my knuckles were white.

We were halfway through a new episode before we heard a curt knock on the door. Stephen reached over and turned the television off while Callum hopped up to let Thorpe and Freddie in. He let Thorpe have the chair and sat on the floor with his back against Boo's legs. Freddie hesitated so I patted what space was left on the couch. She shot me a small smile as she came to sit beside me. She had her duffel bag with her. She set it down on the floor. Now I was really squished. We all were.

The whites of Freddie's eyes were still a little pink. Thorpe cleared his throat. He was looking directly at me, so I looked right back at him. He was still Thorpe-y. Super composed, young, but there was definitely something, some very faint purple under the eyes maybe, that made him look more tired than usual. He didn't say anything. Nobody did. Just looked at me.

"I really don't want to talk about it," I finally said.

"We have to talk about what you saw today."

"Alrighty, then. What did I see?" I leaned back into the couch, my fingers still gripping at the pants.

Thorpe rubbed his forehead. I think he liked it a lot better when Stephen was left to deal with me. "You were practically unconscious when we spoke earlier, Rory. I know that this is hard, but I need you to recount what you experienced for us."

"Hasn't Freddie told you?"

"Freddie didn't see or do everything you did."

I groaned and threw my head back on the couch. I didn't let anyone react. I said whatever I could recount as fast as I could. I was only going to detail this once, and if I stopped, I couldn't keep going. I fought against the tightness in my throat. I tried not to remember the smells, but it seemed the smell of death wasn't something that left. "And then I was puking into a little garbage can."

Thorpe considered me for a moment. "So, when you first entered Hardwell's you did not see the…" He trailed off. I think he was looking for a word that he could handle.

"Ghost," I finished.

He tipped his head. "Yes. You didn't notice them before you discovered the bodies? And they weren't there the first time Freddie brought us to Hardwells?"

"No. At least, I never noticed them. I think they came from the crack."

"The crack?

"The one created from the explosion."

"The explosion at Marble Arch?"

"_No_," I moaned. I punched Stephen's arm. "You didn't tell him about this?"

"I didn't have much of a chance. I got a little caught up dying."

"You try to make a joke _now_? Your timing sucks." I huffed and looked back at Thorpe. He was eyeing the two of us with a weird look. I didn't like it. "When Newman was terminated. There was a big burst of light and everything went boom. When I got back to Wexford, there was a big crack in the bathroom and a ghost in the stall. That's the first time I terminated a ghost with my hand. Then there was a crack in the pub where that guy was murdered. And yeah maybe what happened at Marble Arch did something, too. Maybe its range is wider now. I have no effing clue what is going on right now."

My rant was met with another long silence. "What does it feel like?" Freddie said beside me. All eyes turned to her.

"What?"

"When you touch a ghost. What does it feel like?"

I looked her over and tried to come up with a good description. "Like… Falling. Like when you're on a rollercoaster and you drop? Now, with the added bonus of being tased!" I tried to laugh. It came out weird. It was bitter.

"You feel as though you're being tased," Thorpe repeated.

"Sort of? Electricity is the only way I can think to describe it. The falling feeling was usually fine. I could handle it when I was expecting it. But the pain is starting to get worse..."

Stephen turned away to train his eyes frigidly on the wall. Boo was biting her lip. "You can't do it anymore," she said.

"I suppose you're right," Thorpe acquiesced. "We don't know what long term effects this may have on her."

"But I don't want to stop," I said, nearly surprising even myself.

"Rory," Boo said slowly with a quick glance to Callum. "You can't keep torturing yourself. We saw what it did to you."

I couldn't help but laugh for some reason. "First of all, I can't help it. I have no way to stop _them_ from touching _me_ and I can't control whether or not I terminate them once they touch me."

"We can at least try to minimize your exposure," Stephen said in a brisk tone. "Boo and Callum can handle whatever comes up with their termini."

"Yeah, and what are you and Freddie going to do?"

"We'll figure something out." He was already calculating. I wanted him to stop before he got too far ahead of himself. "We can work out a schedule for who gets a terminus and when." Callum's face flickered. Of course he didn't like this idea either.

"And what happens if one of you has the terminus and someone else needs it?"

"It's rare for the actual need of a terminus as most ghosts aren't violent. Most of them are stationary, as well, so if we really need to, we could terminate them at a later date. " The way he spoke meant he was trying to close the conversation. He had made up his mind. Stephen looked at me with cold intensity.

I wasn't going to back down. "Maybe that was true before Newman attacked me," I shot back. "But from what I've seen, that's not the case. And there's more of them now, right? I can't be the only one who think there's more. I've dealt with two ghosts just this week. Then there was the thing in the graveyard..."

Callum was the one to speak up. "She's right. You saw what the tubes were like today." Stephen glared at him. "It used to be maybe one or two most days. And they were weak. They were passive. They aren't passive anymore."

Stephens voice was more acidic than I had ever heard. "We're not going to keep endangering her just because you don't-"

"Enough," Thorpe cut in. "Rory, if you don't want to keep acting as an active terminus, I understand. No one will force you to, but ultimately I will leave this decision up to you unless it comes to a point where it is clear whether or not you should continue."

I looked at him and pressed my lips together. I had an out. My day had been awful. I wasn't actually sure how much more pain I _could_ take and earlier I would have jumped at this opportunity. However, something told me I had to push through. I had to keep doing this. I had to figure out what this meant and what I could do. And I needed to take control of it. I let out a breath. "I want to keep helping."

"Alright," Thorpe said. Stephen was rigid next to me. "Alright. Rory will continue working as a terminus. Freddie, you'll begin training alongside Stephen so she can stick with the two of you. Stephen." They exchanged a look and I knew some serious business was being made clear. And Stephen would relent to this order, no matter how much he didn't like it. I watched his jaw clenching. Thorpe stood. "Right. Freddie will be staying here tonight. Try to make her comfortable." He nodded curtly as a farewell, and left. Stephen stood as soon as he was gone and walked brusquely into his bedroom, practically slamming the door.

"He's mad," Freddie noted.

"Furious," Callum said as he stuffed his mouth with more food.

I scowled at his door and said, "So am I."

Boo was eyeing me. I could tell she was trying to extract my every thought with just her eyes. "Stephen," she called out, "are you going to finish your dinner?" No response. "Are you hungry, Freddie? Do you mind leftovers? We can heat this up for you." She was already picking up Stephen's food and walking into the kitchen. "Sorry, I didn't know you were coming or I would have ordered you something as well."

I could tell Freddie appreciated this attempt at hospitality. "That's okay. Are you sure he's not going to finish that?"

"Have you seen him?" Boo laughed. "Does he look like he eats this much?"

Freddie sort of laughed. I turned and put my legs on top of her. "You good?" I asked.

She shrugged. "You?" I shrugged. Then we both laughed.

"What the hell?" Callum said, looking between the both of us. And that made us laugh harder. "Do you think they're alright?" Boo came back and set a plate with Stephen's leftovers, now steaming, on the coffee table.

"I think they've had quite the day. I mean… We haven't really had to see the stuff that they saw today. At least we were usually prepared for it when we did." Freddie and I quieted down as we listened to Boo talk to Callum. "And Rory, you saw Jane the other night. Your hands were bloody."

"They cut her throat," I noted. "It's kind of fuzzy, to be honest. Like I was still waking up, or I was on drugs or something. Both actually. I don't know. It didn't really affect me." She nodded. Freddie held the plate over my legs and ate. "We need to find them soon," I muttered.

"Who?" Callum asked.

"Sid and Sadie. Unless we want to have more moments like today,"

"You think they did that? But you said Clover was working for them, didn't you?"

"Yeah. So was Jane. And they were Jane's gods. They got what they wanted from her and they killed her. I think they did the same thing to Clover. Cressida may have been in on it, too," I said. This hung in the air for a moment.

"I think we should wait until the morning before we talk about it anymore," Boo said. What she meant was that she wanted to wait for Stephen to calm down so he could be part of the discussion. She stood. "I'm going to get ready for bed."

"Do you all live here?" Freddie asked, looking around the small apartment.

"Sort of," Callum said. "Boo has a bed in my room now, but sometimes she sleeps at her parents. Rory's slept in it as well, but sometimes she sleeps out here. Stephen and I were going to share and let them have my room, but they wouldn't let us. Rory can talk your ear off."

The truth is, I had seen the look in Boo's eyes when we had been discussing where we could all sleep. I decided she deserved a better shot with Callum. "My parents are lawyers. I feel bad making y'all move everything around when I can just sleep on the couch."

"Or with Stephen." Callum waggled his eyebrows suggestively. I balled up my blanket and threw it at him. He laughed. "What? You are _wearing his clothes_."

I cursed under my breath. "Before your mind goes anywhere, nothing happened." I tried not to let the disappointment of that fact color my words.

"Uh huh," he hummed. He stood up and put his hand out for Freddie's empty plate. "I'm sure he was very gentlemanly when he comforted you."

"So you two _are _close, then?"

Callum said, "Yes," while I said, "No." "Tell that to my 5 quid," he said as he came back into the room.

"Are you ever going to get over that?"

He picked up the blanket and threw it back at me. "No," he said, and with that, Callum went to his room.

"I think they've warmed up to you," I told Freddie. She reached down and started to dig around in her duffel.

"That's good to hear, honestly."

"Callum and Stephen didn't like me either, at first. Boo had to like me because we lived together, and she would try to bring me around and Callum and Stephen made it very clear to me that I wasn't supposed to be there."

"And now you live here! We love character development," Freddie said with a smile. "Are you going to sleep in Stephen or Boo's bed tonight? Or do you want the couch? I can sleep on the floor."

"No, you're fine. Take the couch. I'm still mad at him. I'll take that chair." I nodded to the comfier of the chairs, where Boo had sat. It would be fine for one night.

"Why are you mad at Stephen? He's a little protective, but I think it's from a good place."

I sighed. "I agree with you, but I don't know. I feel like if I can keep practicing as a terminus, maybe I can understand it. Maybe I can understand what I did. I don't know." _And Regina said not to trust him,_ I thought. That was still nagging me. "I miss Jazza," I said quietly. Jazza would be able to work this out. Jazza would have been able to calm me down and talk me through it all.

Freddie paused, her eyes darting around. "I probably shouldn't do this," she whispered, "but do you want to talk to her?"

My eyes widened and I felt my lips start to form a smile. "You have her number?"

Freddie nodded and slipped her phone out of her pocket. I was glad to see that my dropping it hadn't caused it to crack any more. "Okay, but just text her. Don't call or anything." She pulled up Jazza's texts and handed it to me.

"Thank you so much."

Freddie went to the bathroom. I said **Hey. It's your fave. I miss you and Freddie is so nice to bend the rules for me.**

I decided saying my name was probably a bad idea. I got a reply quickly.

**Omg. I miss you.**

And another quickly followed that.

**Could she bend the rules enough for us to see each other? I can be in London the day before Christmas Eve. Plz. ** She included a desperate looking emoji which I thought was a nice touch.

**She probably can't**, I typed back. **But I might be able to.**

**TRY. We can get drinks. **And before I could respond she sent another text that threw me for a loop. **This is all Charlotte's fault.**

Freddie came back out and sat on the couch. She put her dirty clothes in the bag and produced a throw blanket which she spread out over her legs.

**I'll have you elaborate on that over drinks. Good night. Love you.**

I handed the phone back to Freddie with a quick thanks, and went into the bathroom myself to brush my teeth. When I stepped back out into the room, she was already asleep. I made sure all the lights were turned off. I grabbed Stephen's blanket off of the floor and looked at his bedroom door before climbing into the comfy chair and curling up. I really was still tired. Despite it being hard to get comfortable, I fell asleep quickly.

I had just started to dream when I woke up again. I was watching myself on an operating table getting my stomach stitched up. Then I opened my eyes to Stephen crouched in front of me shaking my arm. Freddie was snoring quietly nearby. It was still dark, but he was close enough that I could make out his eyes. His expression was back to usual worry. I could still make out the tiniest bit of aggravation if I looked hard enough, which I was too tired to do. A small whining noise escaped my lips and let my head fall back onto the chair. "Come on," he whispered.

"Wa time izzit?" I muttered. He got me on my feet and wrapped his blanket around my shoulders.

"It's about three in the morning. That looked uncomfortable." Freddie didn't stir as Stephen led me into his room. He shut the door softly and brought me over to the bed. "You didn't have to sleep there."

"You were mad at me," I yawned as I laid my head on the pillow.

"That doesn't mean you need to sleep in a chair, Rory." He climbed back into the bed.

I hummed and turned to face him. He was taking his glasses off and putting them on a stack of books beside his bed. "I'm gonna say something that's going to make you mad."

"You already did that." He laid back, putting one of his arms under his pillow. I wished the lights were on. I wanted a better view of him like this.

I giggled and patted around the bed until I found his hand. I scooted closer to him and let our hands rest on his stomach. "I'm gonna say something else that's gonna make you mad."

He sighed. "What are you going to say?"

"It's Christmas in a few days."

"Christmas doesn't make me mad," he said.

"No, but what I want for Christmas might." He turned over to face me and our hands fell to the bed. I stared at them. "Can, um, can I go get drinks with Jazza? Could you let that happen, please?"

He was quiet for a second. I thought he fell back asleep. "We can discuss it," he said softly.

"We probably shouldn't tell Thorpe."

"No, probably not." Stephen moved a little closer. I could feel his breath on my forehead. "Rory?"

My eyes fluttered shut. They didn't want to reopen. "Mm?"

"Will you tell Thorpe you want to cut back on being a terminus?"

I let out a low hum. "We can discuss it," I mumbled.


	5. December 22, 10:15 PM

Bette hurried out of the Underground. She always felt better once she was above ground, even if it wasn't the right way to feel. No matter where you were (underground, above ground, or even in it) night was a dangerous time to be alone. There were many things that made it dangerous.

There was the danger of loneliness, which could tempt her to call an ex or someone who should remain just a friend. This endangered her life in the sense that it would ruin it, and she quite liked how her life was now. So loneliness was dangerous. Night was also dangerous because it was often a time her mind began to work harder. Her thoughts flew, digging deeper and deeper into the negatives. Anxiety and Nighttime were partners in crime, seeking to rob people of their peace of mind.

Then there were the obvious dangers. The danger of someone physically hurting her. Someone stealing from her. Someone stealing _her_. So it wasn't the right way to feel safer upon stepping out of the tube and into the London streets. The streets were just as dangerous, perhaps even moreso. The issue was that the Tubes were just so _confined_ and these days, they had been more crowded. She had noticed a serious spike in the amount of people who milled about on the platform. Many of them looked quite odd. Not quite there. The first day she noticed this, she thought it was for some sort of performance, but they never actually _did _anything.

These people just stood on the platform. A few stared straight ahead. Other screamed. Others cried out. Others spoke too fast. She knew one thing: they were all nutters.

As she walked away from the exit, a buttery yellow car pulled up and parked on the edge of the street. Two people stepped out. Their appearance was startling. They looked too much alike, in Bette's opinion, to be a couple.

They regarded Bette as they made their way to the tube, then shared a look. "Lots of people on the train tonight?" The man asked, flashing Bette a brilliant and mischievous grin.

Bette nodded. "A great crowd," she said, her irritation not failing to color her words.

"Marvelous!" sighed the woman. "We'll have a wonderful party tonight, Sid," she sang in a beautiful soprano.

They passed Bette, the man, Sid, winking at her as they did. They walked down into the tube. Bette fought the strange urge to follow them, but she had just come from there, and she did not want to go back into that crowd. She wanted to go home, and curl up near her space heater with her cat and have a cuppa.

She turned and started back towards her flat again. _Nutters_.


	6. 5

Stephen woke me up around noon the next day. "Get up, Rory. Get dressed."

"What's going on?" I sat up.

Stephen had a sweater and a pair of jeans on. He was taking his coat off of a hanger. "We're going out," he said. He didn't look like he was in a hurry.

"I thought you wanted me to go out less." I ran my hand over my head. The good thing about having shaved my head was that I didn't have to wonder how my hair looked. I fell back into the pillows. He sat beside me, laying his coat at the foot of the bed, to pull his shoes on.

"I want you not to use your power as much and I don't want you to be seen until we have your identity sorted, so the less you go out, the better. That doesn't mean you're under house arrest, and I know you're probably hungry. I'm hungry." Stephen put his hand close to mine, not quite touching it, but close enough.

I was hungry. "Okay. Give me a minute." I crawled out of bed and went to Callum's room to grab some clothes. In the bathroom, I splashed some water on my face, brushed my teeth, and took a moment to examine myself. It looked like my eyebrows were kind of starting to grow back to their usual shape. I rifled through whatever makeup Boo had gotten me and pulled out a colored eyebrow gel and some mascara. I swiped these on, threw on the auburn wig along with a beanie, changed into something with lots of layers and I was ready. Stephen was waiting in his coat and scarf. "Good," he said, with a nod.

"Where's Freddie?" I asked.

"Thorpe came and got her for more training this morning." He kept his hand on my elbow, I'm sure as a precaution in case I slipped on the stairs.

I didn't ask Stephen where we were going to eat. We took a cab into Soho. He walked a little closer to me here and wrapped his hand gently around my wrist. Stephen stopped right at the entrance of a deserted little alley. It was a dead end. "Stay here," Stephen said. I raised an eyebrow. "I'll be quick."

"Doing what?" I asked. The only doors down this alley looked like back entrances to shops.

"Rory-"

"There you are," a sharp voice rang from the alley. I jumped. The woman walked forward. I recognized her from the other night. "What's she doing here?" She looked at Stehen severely.

"I remember you," I said. My mind had been exhausted after bringing Stephen back, and most of that night was a blur. I had a flash of a memory of this steely woman pushing her way through a door. Boo had said a feat like that was painful for ghosts. "Do you feel okay?" She looked me up and down. Her stare made me feel both entirely unwelcome, yet invaluable. "I'm Rory," I offered when no one said anything.

"I know who you are," she said sharply. She wasn't going to give me anything.

"Oh," I said. "You do?" I looked at Stephen.

"We're on our way to get lunch," he said to our ghost friend. Then to me, "Stay here. Do not go anywhere. Please. It will be just a moment." We stared each other down, but I relented and leaned against the wall with an exhale. They walked down to the end of the alley where it was darker and they were less likely to be noticed or heard. It was even hard for me to make out what they were saying. Most of it sounded like nonsense. Maybe they were discussing the other night. I sighed and sat down. The ground was cold on my butt.

So Stephen had secret friends. This wasn't news, of course. Wasn't that the code that Freddie had cracked? Secret meetings with a secret person about the Oswulf stone. And this secret person knew my name. From the way she looked at me, she knew a little more than just that. I looked around the corner at the two of them. It sounded like they had started to argue. Stephen looked defensive. I faced the street again and played with the edges of my wig.

It took a while before Stephen finally came strutting back down the alley. "It's handled," he said sharply. He looked surprised to see me on the ground. He held out his hand to help me up.

I ignored him and pushed myself off the ground as the woman joined us. She looked steelier. I wiped my hands on my pants. "Do you know anything about Sid and Sadie? Where they are?"

I had surprised her with this. She looked confused. "Who?" she said, as if I was wasting her time.

It occurred to me that I could very easily get rid of her, and that she was aware of this. It was a very sudden dark thought. The fact that I even considered it was frightening. I think Stephen noticed my hand flex because he grabbed it. I looked her over, then up to Stephen. "Can we go now?" I said impatiently.

I turned and walked away. "Rory," Stephen said, still gripping my hand as I dragged him away. I didn't turn around to look at him. I kept walking. Stephen sighed and said, "Turn right." I hesitated for half a second when I realized I didn't know where we were going, but decided I would maintain my dignity, and continued to walk ahead of him. He had the common sense to let me, saying a direction out loud whenever we neared a corner. It didn't take long.

We ended up at a place called Frank's Diner. Maybe he was trying to cheer me up with American food. It didn't look like a diner I had ever been to back home, rather what someone who had watched Grease thought a diner in America should look like.

As soon as we stepped inside, I got vertigo. All thoughts of giving Stephen a cold shoulder vanished. I had definitely never stepped foot in here, but it felt so familiar. The counter lined with stools, a few of which were occupied. The overly buoyant vinyl booths. The tiled floor and walls covered with old timey pictures. I followed Stephen to one of the booths. I steadied once I was sitting down and gripping the edge of the seat.

A waitress came to the side of our table and put glossy menus down. "Anything to drink?"

"I'll have a chocolate milkshake," Stephen said.

"I'll have the same," I said.

She nodded and said, "Anything to start off?" She talked a bit like Boo. Her _th_s came out as _f_s.

I kept my gaze on the table and shook my head. Stephen was watching me. "We'll need a moment." She turned on her toe and walked away. "Are you alright?" he asked me.

I'm sure I looked like I was about to hurl. "Yeah, I just… feel weird. Dizzy. You like milkshakes?"

He shrugged and leaned back in the booth. "They have good ones here."

I took a deep breath and met his eyes. He was watching me carefully. "You've been here before." It wasn't a question, but Stephen nodded. "I've never been here," I said firmly. I was trying to convince myself of this rather than him. I couldn't shake the sense that I was wrong though. I had been here with Stephen before, but I couldn't fit it anywhere in the timeline of our relationship.

"They have good burgers, too," he told me. I saw something in his eyes before he cast them to his menu. I couldn't decipher what it was, but it made me feel assured in this weird feeling.

The waitress brought us our shakes and we ordered burgers and fries. The waitress was looking over Stephen, so I did, too. He was dressed nicely, if I thought about it, which I hadn't before because I was hungry. While I was still bundled up, he had removed his coat and scarf. His sweater looked nice, like something he had gotten before he became a cop. He maintained his usual stiffness as he ordered, one hand holding his menu, the other lying on the table. Stephen didn't notice that she was checking him out so I tried to ignore it too and focus on placing my order. I watched her look back as she walked away.

Stephen caught my eye. A memory of him flashed in my mind. Him, sitting in a uniform, in a booth like this, but he didn't have his usual Stephen-y air about him. His face wasn't so sharp. His expression was softer. He looked vulnerable. I felt my heart skip. Then I was back to the present. I sucked in a sharp breath and tried to shake off what I had just experienced as subtly as possible.

"What's that sweater made out of?" I asked quickly.

Stephen looked down at his chest, then back at me. "Er, cashmere."

"Ah." I nodded and took a long sip of my milkshake. It was pretty thick so it took me a second to get anything. "So did you wear a fancy sweater to take me to lunch or to meet up with your secret friend?"

Stephen put his hands together and moved forward. "Rory," he murmured. "Please don't." He stared at my hands as I placed them on the table.

I looked at him for a moment as I sucked on my straw again. "Okay," I nodded. "Okay, I won't. I want to tell you though-" I watched him tense up, ready to shoot something back at me. "I don't think I've ever been anywhere like this in America." My turn of subject took him by surprise. I smiled at him with the straw in my mouth. "Seriously. I mean, I'm sure we _have _them, but the closest thing I can think of in Benouville is a Waffle House. And that's usually reserved for prom nights, cast parties, and at 3 am, after you've spent the night on Bourbon Street getting absolutely shit-faced. Not that I would know what that's like," I covered, but I think he saw through it. "Also we're not getting burgers there."

"You're getting waffles."

I laughed. "No. Hash browns." I swiped some of the whipped cream off of my milkshake and sucked it off my finger. He had a strange look in his eyes. "What?" I asked.

"Nothing," he said. I shrugged and decided to glance around the diner. "Did you say cast parties?"

"Yeah," I said absentmindedly. "I used to do dramaturge at Benouville High. I only did two shows, but the cast parties were fun." My eyes fixed behind him. Near the entrance were restrooms. A dream I had forgotten came rushing back in pieces. _I picked this from your memory_, Regina's voice echoed. I blinked. Those were definitely the same restrooms.

I saw Stephen turn his head to see what I was fixated on. He turned back to me and put his hand on top of mine. This shocked me back. My eyes focused on him as he said my name, then on our hands. He also looked at our hands. His thumb moved along my wrist. We watched this gesture, as if our hands were separate entities from us, and were acting on their own accord. I flipped my hand over so that we were holding hands properly, and he didn't pull away.

I concentrated on trying to make it look like my breathing hadn't just sped up. I chewed on my straw while we waited for our food. Stephen was watching me closely and I was sure I hadn't convinced him. "Are you sure you're alright? We can go back to the flat if you're not feeling well."

"I'm just getting really strong… Deja vu?" Again, I wasn't sure if that was the right way to describe it, but Stephen's expression flickered. "But like I said," I continued quickly, "I've never been here." He nodded, willing to accept these words even with as little confidence as I spoke them with.

Things were better when our food was set in front of us. Unfortunately, we couldn't really hold hands anymore, but it was easier not to focus on my familiarity with the setting while I was busy eating. The burger was huge, too, and the fries were plentiful. I actually started to get full pretty fast. I slowed down so I could draw it out a little longer. I didn't want to have to spend more time staring at some bathroom doors like a maniac. I swallowed what was in my mouth and focused on Stephen again. "So… are you in trouble?"

Stephen paused his chewing and raised an eyebrow at me. I felt a weird sensation in my stomach. "With you?"

"No," I said quickly. "Of course not. You got me food, so at least probably not for another hour." I smiled. He relaxed a little bit and started chewing again. The corner of his lips twitched. "With that ghost woman?"

He tensed again and swallowed hard. "Rory-"

"I'm not going to pry," I said against my better judgement. "It just sounded like you guys were arguing. You can tell me as little as you want," I begrudgingly added when it didn't look like he was going to say anything.

Stephen watched me and finally shrugged his shoulders. "Sort of," he said.

"Because you brought me with you?" He adjusted his glasses.

"That was only a small reason why."

"So I didn't get you in trouble?" I asked before having a long sip of my milkshake.

He hesitated then said, "I'll only get in as much trouble as I want to get in."

It was a non-answer, but he said it like it should comfort me. I bit my lip. He continued to watch me. "Why did you bring me along to your secret meeting with your friend if you didn't want me to ask about it?"

I watched him consider this, a conflict happening behind his eyes. He leaned forward in his booth a bit. "I don't not want you to ask me about it. It's complicated."

"Sounds like it," I said. I bit a fry in half. "We can uncomplicate it."

"Rory, I-"

"Can't," I said before he had the chance to. I sighed and picked up another fry. "That's annoying, you know."

"I know. I'm sorry. I guess I was hoping you might know more." He looked at me, his eyes pleading for me to remember some detail I must have missed. His face, however, remained elusive and taut. I couldn't understand how he thought I would know more. Again, my memories flooded with a dream. _You know_, Regina had said. _You just forgot_. Did Stephen mean the same as his sister?

I shook my head. "There's something else you could uncomplicate for me." He looked at me over his glass as he drank his shake. I pulled my knees underneath me and reached across the table to grab his hand again. Another flash. I had seen myself do that before. I'd seen my hand reach across a white table for his when I was panicking in the tunnels. I looked up again and tried to smile as I fought off the wooziness starting to overcome me. "Is this a date?" I tried to sound a little sexy, but I was having trouble hearing myself over the rushing in my ears.

Again, I saw his lips twitch at the corners while the groove between his eyebrows carved deeper. Stephen was worried. He was hopeful. He looked at me very carefully, no more conflict in his eyes. Just utter earnestness as he leaned towards me as well. I swallowed, but tried to continue smiling. "I was thinking so. Is that what you want?" I nodded, simply tilting my head once. He leaned back again, relaxing just by a fraction. "Then it's… a date."

So I got to buzz with that knowledge. Stephen and I were on a date. _Stephen _had brought _me _on a date. This was a good thing to focus on to keep me from falling face first into my plate of fries. Stephen must have decided he needed to get me out of there before that happened because he had the waitress bring the check.

It was snowing again by the time we got back to the flat. This didn't help my sense of deja vu, but the icy flakes landing on my forehead stung me enough to distract me, at least. Stephen had wrapped his scarf around my neck and jaw. He was immune to the cold in a way I could never understand. It wasn't until I was in the flat that I started to feel better.

Freddie was sitting on the couch, engrossed in forms that she was both studying and filling out. Her phone was on the coffee table, playing out an odd podcast. She looked up as we walked in, her eyes sliding over both of us. She held up a form that was filled with her curly handwriting. "Practicing." Her eyes looked glazed over.

"Looks like fun," I quipped with a smile. She broke out of her intense haze and smiled back.

"It's good to know," Stephen said. He placed his coat over the back of the chair and settled in it. I sat on the armrest of the couch and untangled myself from his scarf. "Did you do what we talked about?"

Freddie nodded. "It's all set up for tomorrow. Both of them will meet us at Hollowman's tomorrow evening."

"Who are you meeting?" I asked because of course I would. "More of your friends?" I shot at Stephen. No, I hadn't let that go.

Stephen raised an eyebrow. "No. Yours, actually, but if you'd prefer not to-"

"What?" I shot up. "Really? I get to see Jazza?"

"And Jerome," Freddie made sure to note.

"You won't be alone," Stephen warned. "Freddie and I will be there as well."

I shoved aside any reservations I had about that to let myself be excited. I would cross those awkward bridges when I got to them. I plopped down on the couch beside Freddie, repeating my thanks to the both of them a few times. Freddie's cheeks grew bright red. Stephen showed no change in demeanor, except maybe a little less serious. "Merry Christmas," Freddie laughed.

I sighed and relaxed into the couch. I would get to see Jazza and Jerome again. It suddenly occurred to me that I didn't know how much more I would get to see them. After I officially became part of the team, new identity and all, I may never be permitted to see them again.

"The universe likes to throw wrenches at us," Freddie's podcast said, "so I think it's fair to throw a wrench back every once in a while."


	7. 6

It was very hard to sit still for some reason. I had anticipatory jitters. My leg bounced and my fingers knotted and unknotted. I drank a little. Put my hands on the table. Put them in my lap. Repeat. Stephen sat to my right, watching my process. He didn't show it, but I think he was amused. Freddie was excited, too.

We sat together in a dingy old pub called Hollowman's. It was in a shadier spot of London that I hadn't needed to go through during most of my outings. It wasn't a place I could picture Jazza. It was rough, the sort of place you could picture a lot of bikers going to in a movie. We had managed to get a secluded circular little booth. Freddie scooted out to bring Jazza in when she got the text that she had arrived.

Jazza was wearing tights and a dress under her coat. She had a headband pushing her hair back. She looked like a cozy Alice in Wonderland. Jazza also carried a rather lumpy bag. She was bouncing on her toes when she reached the table. I was bouncing, too. She slid in beside me and hugged me tightly. Freddie came up after her, having stopped and gotten her a beer.

Jazza let go of me, and I saw her eyes slide shyly to Stephen. "I'm Jazza," she said.

"Stephen," he replied as he offered her his hand across me. "We have met before."

"I remember," Jazza said, politely shaking his hand. "You were at Wexford. You told us not to talk to anyone. I nearly had an anxiety attack." She took a sip of beer as she watched Stephen. I noticed a hint of panic in his eyes that I wasn't sure anyone else would catch. It looked almost the same as his usual worried expression.

"Sorry about that," he said with sincerity.

"It's alright. Rory calmed me down. We had some Cheese Whiz and blamed Charlotte for everything," she said with a nostalgic grin.

"Is that healthy?" Freddie asked.

Jazza shrugged. "Speaking of," she said, and grabbed her bag from under the table. It was a medium size bag and from it she pulled two jars of Cheese Whiz. "You left these in our dorm. It's the only thing I hid from your parents when they came to pack up your things."

"Oh my _God_," I moaned as I took them from her. I hugged the jars of yummy goop to my chest. "Wait," I paused, "I had three of these." I raised my eyebrow.

"I may be halfway through a jar at home. I think it's a fair trade for _abandoning me_."

I sighed in concession. "Alright, fine. Haven't you made that point already?"

"I will keep saying it," Jazza said, "until I think you feel sufficiently guilty."

"Ugh," I groaned. "But you said something about how that's Charlotte's fault!"

"Oh yes. I've thought it through, and this is all Charlotte's fault." I had never heard Jazza so confident in shit talking someone else. I watched her waiting for her to explain. "I don't care what I say about her anymore. Not to you, anyway."

"You never had to in the first place," I laughed, "but please continue. I'm really interested in this." I put the jars of cheese whiz on the table and leaned closer to her.

"Well," she started, her eyes flicking to Stephen. "Recently? You wouldn't have left if she hadn't recommended that therapist to you. And she wouldn't have gone to her in the first place if she minded her own business and left Boo on her own like Boo kept asking her to. I wouldn't have let you convince me to go with you to Hawthorne that night. You may not have ever even choked at dinner if you weren't trying to show off in front of her."

I hummed and took a sip of my drink, cringing a little at its strength. "So if Charlotte wasn't so… present in my life, you think that I wouldn't have run away?" I thought about it. I liked this thought. I liked placing the blame on Charlotte. If she had never told me about Jane, I wouldn't have gone to her. I wouldn't have listened to anything she said. Stephen wouldn't have had to come after me. He wouldn't have died and I wouldn't have then gone after him, bringing Sid and Sadie back in the process.

Newman, however, felt like he had been an inevitability. It wasn't the sneaking out that had alerted him to me. It was something I didn't even remember doing. The only way to have avoided him was to have never been able to see him. To avoid becoming the Terminus, I would had to have never gotten the Sight at all. "That wasn't Charlotte's fault," I sighed as I stared blankly at the wall across the room. I slid my hand off the table and let it rest beside Stephen's on the booth. His finger twitched. I would have never met him had it not been for a piece of beef getting lodged in my windpipe.

"What wasn't?" Jazza asked.

"Me choking. I'm a showoff. I was being an idiot. That's my fault. And I would love to blame her completely for everything that happened with me running away, but ultimately it came down to me. I could have said no and made better decisions. Even if I had never gone to see Jane… I was still going to get kicked out of Wexford. I wasn't prepared. That was all me, Jazz." Stephen slipped his hand under mine, lacing our fingers. I kept my eyes on Jazza. I wasn't ready to look at him.

She looked for a moment as if she wanted to defend me to myself, but then she nodded and picked up her drink. "I'm still going to blame her for it all."

"Please. It's nice to know someone doesn't blame me. Especially after all the crap she's pulled? Screw her," I laughed.

"Yeah," Jazza nodded letting a small smile turn the corners of her lips. "Screw Charlotte," she repeated, though not as confidently as I did.

Freddie grabbed her glass and raised it. "To screwing Charlotte!"

Jazza and I burst out laughing. "No. Definitely not," I snorted, but we tapped her glass with ours, and I tapped mine against Stephen's and drank. I took this moment to glance at his face. There was a smile. It wouldn't be a smile on any other person, but for Stephen, it was a smile. I had seen him smile so much more lately. I tried to tell myself that had to do with the fact we were around each other more for me to see it. I looked away quickly.

Just as I did, Jerome walked up to our table. His eyes flicked quickly to Stephen then to me, and he forced on a smile and greeted us. We each scooted over to give him room to slide into the booth, which meant Stephen and I had our legs pressed together. The air between us had become electrified. Our hands, still locked together, rested on my thigh, and feeling the warmth of them sinking through my jeans was starting to make me mushy inside. He was moving his thumb in circles over the back of my hand.

"And what's made you all giddy, Jazz?" Jerome asked, calling my attention back.

"We're placing all the blame on Charlotte." Jerome's eyes flicked to Stephen again and I could tell Charlotte was not the first person he blamed for anything. "Well, I am. Rory and I seem to have switched roles."

"Look, I'm just trying to take some responsibility for my own actions!" I told him. Then I made a face. "Ugh, I sound like an old person. Whatever. This doesn't mean that I won't absolutely break Charlotte's nose the next time I see her for what she did. Stockholm syndrome or no Stockholm syndrome," I added when Freddie opened her mouth.

"Jeez," Jerome said. "I know she's a bitch, but what did she do to you that was so bad?"

Stephen squeezed my hand in warning. I had to be careful talking about Charlotte. I could have slipped. I looked at him. "Oh, come on," Jerome said defensively.

I took a sip of my drink to think of something that would make him keep from prying too far. I didn't want the tone of this conversation to be as serious as it would have to be. I wished I could joke it off. Jerome's face went dark at my expression. "She sort of convinced me… to kill myself."

"What?" He breathed lowly. I watched both him and Jazza absorb this. Jazza looked like she had been punched in the chest. She was letting out air like a deflated balloon. Jerome's shoulders slouched.

Stephen, on the other hand, had become a statue beside me. This was the first time I had admitted, out loud, the consequences of the ritual. I knew that had not escaped him. I looked at him again. He didn't look back at me. He wasn't smiling anymore.

I swallowed hard, and tried for some casualness. "Basically." Even Freddie's eyes had widened considerably. I guess I really had done a good job of convincing everyone I had some sort of control. Because I'd had to be so sure of myself, I'd been able to make the rest of them, besides Stephen, just as sure. Or at least, made it easier for them not to think too hard about it.

"The other night," Jerome said slowly. I watched it dawn on him, and I tried to think about what he might have seen if we hadn't woken up. Jerome might have still burst into the house, but he would have found Stephen on the floor with Sid, Sadie and the Oswulf Stone. All of them dead but not quite. Me, motionless on the sofa, my status undetermined. Surrounded by a bunch of lunatics, Charlotte among them. I nodded. "Is that why you were so…"

"Dead on my feet?" I offered up jokingly. Stephen's hand tightened around mine again, and I knew that I had made a mistake trying to lighten things up in that moment. Jazza looked a little green.

"What could she have said," Jazza whispered with a harder edge to her voice than I had heard before, "that would make you kill yourself?" She was mad at me. Rightfully mad at me.

I sighed and tried to put it together as best as I could. "It wasn't… She wasn't trying to get me to kill myself. She really believed I wouldn't die, and she had so much faith in that. They were right, though. I didn't die."

"But you could have," Jerome said. "And you still went through with it?"

"Why does it matter now?" I asked, desperate to end the conversation.

"It matters," he said firmly. Jazza was still staring at me in a mix of horror and fury. Freddie was looking between the two of them warily.

"I had to do it," I said defiantly. "I can't explain it. I'm actually not even legally allowed to tell you why I did it, but it was important."

Jerome's eyes flicked to Stephen, and this time, his gaze stayed on him. I wished he hadn't. I looked at Stephen, too. Tensed again. It struck me that Stephen had been relaxing whenever we were alone together. Even though tense was how I thought of him, I had grown used to the subtle openness he'd allowed himself with me. Now he was stone. I saw his jaw work as he held onto some semblance of control under Jerome's accusatory glare.

"Did you know about this? You were there! Why didn't you stop her?" Jerome's voice was rough, and I didn't like his tone. This time I squeezed Stephen's hand, ready to defend him if I had to. Stephen slipped his fingers out of mine then and clasped his hands on the table in front of him as he leaned towards Jerome. I tried not to let the hurt I felt show.

Stephen didn't look angry at Jerome. He looked severe, like he needed Jerome to understand just using his eyes. "I didn't have much of a say in the matter. I didn't know what she had done until some time after she had done it, already too late. I was in no condition to fight Rory."

"You would have lost anyway," I muttered stubbornly. Stephen shot me a warning glare. Jazza gasped. I put my hand on her arm and examined her to see what was wrong. Her eyes shifted from me, to Stephen, who had gone back to glaring at Jerome. She looked as if she understood something, but I wasn't sure what. Stephen hadn't given anything away.

How Jerome maintained eye contact with Stephen, I wasn't sure. I would have had to look away by now, but Jerome sat there with a steady gaze. I watched the wheels in his mind turning as he tried to remember every strange thing from the other night that could explain this. "You were as… You were struggling just as much as she did. You did it, too."

"Jerome, no," I said before Stephen could open his mouth. We were really in illegal territory here. "It all had to do with me. With what I am. It was sort of… to test my limits? Stephen was just… a hostage to the situation. He didn't have a choice." That was true of a lot of things.

"You said they were trying to keep you safe! I walked into a full on fight! A woman was dead! And you just told me that if I had gotten there earlier, that would have been you."

"It wouldn't have been as gory," I muttered. Neither he nor Stephen appreciated that. "But yes. It's very likely that I might have been." He was quiet, waiting for me to continue. Waiting for me to explain. I shook my head. "I can't really tell you anything else. And you don't really want to know. The truth is only going to hurt you." He seemed to accept this as easily as I accepted a hot cup of tea. I drank it, but I didn't necessarily want to swallow it.

"They were supposed to keep you safe."

Stephen leaned forward again. "Rory's safety has been my first priority since I met her. If I had been able to, I would have done my best to keep her from doing what she did. No matter what the consequences of that would have been," he added with a sharp look at me. I rolled my eyes.

Jerome blinked a few times, shifting between glaring at Stephen and looking at me, his eyes pleading for information. He was breathing harder. I worried if this was enough to trigger an asthma attack. We had to get off the subject. "It's only going to hurt you," I breathed. I knew that was true. And I didn't want to keep hurting Jerome. He didn't deserve it. Finally, he looked at Freddie, but she stared at her hands in her lap. He started to absorb that he would have to settle with what he knew.

He scooched out of the booth and stood. "I'm going to get a drink," he mumbled as he walked away.

I sighed, trying to let the tension in my body slip away. Stephen was looking down at the table, his finger on the bridge of his glasses. He hadn't relaxed at all, and hadn't resumed holding my hand. I thought we were sort of in our own little argument now.

Jazza put her hand on my shoulder. I tore my eyes away from Stephen to look at her. She still had that look on her face like she knew something now. "He's very protective of you," she whispered, although I was sure he could still hear her considering I was practically sitting on top of him.

I rolled my eyes. "It's his job," I said. This wasn't something I even needed to lie about. The truth of it stung my throat though. I didn't want him to act like this because it was his job.

He sighed next to me, and his shoulders slumped. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him rub his forehead. "Would it hurt me?" Jazza asked. I looked back into her wide doe-eyes. Innocent. Her world not quite torn all the way apart yet.

I thought about it. "Not exactly. But it would probably get you sent to prison. As well as us. It might scare you, though, and I don't want to do that to you."

She nodded, pursing her lips. She was considering something carefully. "But it wouldn't hurt me. My feelings."

Finally, I saw what she was getting at. "No."

"But it would hurt Jerome?" She pressed.

I felt so uncomfortable talking about this right next to Stephen. I moved my lips closer to her ear. "I didn't cheat," I whispered firmly, though even more quietly. I saw Freddie eye Stephen's reaction. My hands were twisting in my lap to keep from trying to hold Stephen's hand again. That wouldn't have helped my case.

"No. I believe you, Rory." She looked passed me at Stephen who was still leaning over the table. I leaned back and took a nice big chug of my drink, which I realized probably wasn't such a good idea. Chugging alcohol was likely a no-no, especially because I was starting to feel fuzziness edge into my brain. "So how old are you, Stephen?" Jazza asked lightly as Jerome reapproached with a drink in his hand.

Stephen's lips pressed in a tight line, like he felt uncomfortable being the one regarded by Jazza. "Nineteen."

"Oh," she breathed. "So, quite young then. But you are police? Honestly?"

He nodded. "I am. I'm in charge of keeping Rory safe."

"It's good to know that Rory's with you. It's relieving. You seem responsible."

"He is responsible," Freddie chimed in.

_Too responsible,_ I thought, but I didn't say it out loud. Another thing I wouldn't say out loud was that I liked that he was responsible. Instead, I took the opportunity to walk my fingers across my thigh to poke Stephen's leg. He looked at me quickly. It made me feel very warm when he looked at me, so I poked his leg again. He watched me very carefully and said, "We will probably have to go soon."

"See?" I smiled. I held out a hand towards Stephen to mark the point. "Responsible. Now, my turn." I zoned in on Jazza. "I retain best friend privileges, correct?"

Jazza's round eyes widened with worry. "O-of course."

"So you'll tell me when you're going out with someone?" I glanced at Freddie, who flushed, and raised an eyebrow. Jerome was looking more confused than disgruntled now.

"Yes," she said sheepishly, but she sat up straighter and flicked her hair over her shoulder. "You'd do the same for me, wouldn't you?"

The drink was really starting to settle in me. Soberly, I probably wouldn't talk about this in front of Jerome, but I couldn't help but smile. "You'll know when I know," I said with a wink.

"Well," Jerome sighed. "I'm lost."

"And I'm-" I said. "Well, we should probably go." I looked at Stephen.

He nodded and said, "If you're ready." I bit my lip and shrugged. Stephen moved out of the booth and started to put his coat and scarf back on.

"Oh, come on," Jerome groaned.

"You knew it wouldn't be too long," I told him, "and I don't want anyone getting in trouble." Stephen help me slide into my jacket silently.

"But we barely even got to talk!"

"It isn't _my _fault you tried to pick a fight instead of enjoying spending time with me."

He pouted as I grabbed the bag Jazza brought from off the floor. "I'm sorry. I was just-"

"Jerome," I said softly. "You need to trust _me_. I know how hard that is, given all the crazy stuff that goes on around me, but that's what I need you to do if you want to be my friend, okay?"

Jerome paused, but nodded slowly. "Fine," he said.

"Good." I looked at Stephen. "Let's go." Stephen slid out of the booth. He extended his hand to help me out and since I was feeling a little wobbly, I took it.

Jazza slid out after me and hugged me tightly again. "_Please _be safe," she mumbled in my ear. I squeezed her before we released each other.

"I'll be right out," Freddie said.

Stephen nodded. "We'll be outside. Make it quick." It was already dark outside; the street lamps created small pools of light on the sidewalk. I pulled my hood on as we stepped out of the pub to try to keep the sting of the cool air at bay. Stephen put some distance between us, which only made me feel colder.

"Are you mad at me?" I asked. My breath plumed in front of me.

He didn't look at me. He walked over to a decrepit looking bench against the wall of the pub and sat on it. I was surprised it didn't crumble beneath him. I wasn't going to chance adding my weight to it. "Not at you," he said.

"Are you sure? Cause you seem mad," I pressed.

"I am, just not with you," he said again.

"So what are you mad about?" I moved closer to him, but he still didn't look at me.

Stephen pushed his glasses up by the bridge. The reflection of the streetlamp on his lenses hid his eyes from me. "It doesn't matter."

"Of course it does," I said firmly. I shoved my hands into my pockets to keep them from shaking and let the bag dangle from my arm. "Are you upset about what Jerome said?"

"He's right," Stephen sighed sadly.

"No. He doesn't know what happened. He can't understand. He can be upset all he wants, but I'm the only person he should be upset with, and he can't understand why I did what I did."

Stephen finally looked up, but his face was still closed off. "I still don't understand why you did it."

"We've been over this," I said warily.

"That doesn't mean-"

"Let me ask you a question." I bent over a little and held his gaze. "Would you have done it for me if the roles were reversed?"

His lips pressed into a line. "Yes," Stephen finally said. "But you shouldn't ha-"

"Please don't argue with me about this because you will lose. I can talk you down. I'm better at it than you are. Jerome is wrong. We're alive. Stop focusing on what did happen, and concentrate on what will happen."

With a sigh, Stephen finally rose from the bench and stuck his hands in his coat. "What will happen, Rory?"

I slipped the bag over my shoulder. "Well… We're going to find Sid and Sadie," I said as I curled my fingers around Stephen's scarf, "and kick their asses into another dimension. And we will set everything right with the world."

His lips twitched, and I smiled. "You're very optimistic," he said. His head was bent towards me and the crease between his eyebrows wasn't as prominent.

I raised up onto my toes. "I think you've told me that before." Our heads were close together. The idea of him kissing me in public excited me, but maybe it made him nervous. Maybe it meant something different to him. Maybe that's why he hesitated.

Someone cleared their throat. Stephen closed his eyes, and his face recomposed into stone. I turned to see Freddie standing behind me, looking apologetic and flushed. "Ready," she said. I lowered myself back onto my heels, but kept my fingers tangled in Stephen's scarf. Jazza and Jerome were already walking away in the other direction. Jazza turned and waved at me. I smiled and waved back. Jerome kept walking. He must have seen.

Stephen unwrapped my hand from his scarf and held it in his coat pocket as we walked away from the pub. His phone dinged and he pulled it out. "Thorpe's at the flat," he said.

"Oh, this can only mean good news," I said sarcastically as I rolled my eyes. Stephen squeezed my hand.

Freddie chuckled. "Isn't it always?"


End file.
